
Book._J=r.^_ 

CopgfelJ" 



^g^^'^^:^- 



1861 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



SKETCH OF 



LIFE AND LABORS 



Miss Catherine S. Lawrence, 



Tn Early Life Distinguished Herself as a Bitter Opponent j 

OF Slavery and Intemperance, and Later in Life as j 

A Nurse in the Late War; and for Other 1 

Patriotic and Philanthropic Services. : 



REVISED EDITION. 






JAMES B. LYON, PRINTER.' - J.-^V^yt)'^ I 



( 
ALBANY, N. Y. I 



1S96. ^^~ ' y 



• Ui 



COPYRIGHTED, If 



INTRODUCTION 



The writer of the following pages having been 
solicited frequently by her friends and by members of 
the Grand Army corps to give her life and her labors 
in the army to the public, has, after long considera- 
tion, consented, though somewhat reluctantly, to 
do so. 

The writer of this preface has acquainted himself 
quite thoroughly with this little volume while in its 
manuscript form, and he is prepared to pronounce it 
a highly interesting work and well adapted to pro- 
mote Christianity and good morals, such as can be 
introduced safely into the best and most refined 
families or libraries in the land. 

The authoress claims to be a lineal descendant of 
Capt. Lawrence of the frigate Chesapeake, and she 
frequently applies to herself throughout this work 
the words used by that hero of the war of i8i2, 
'' Don't give up the ship." The indomitable pluck 
which seems to have characterized her career from 
childhood to a period of over three score and ten, 
is evidence of her having descended from a noble 
ancestry. Thus in her case tradition is confirmed 
by inheritance. 

The publication cannot fail to be read with especial 
interest by all who were actively engaged in putting 



down the late Rebellion. This book should have a j 

large sale and wide circulation, not only on account ] 

of its fearless advocacy of truth and of its rigorous | 

denunciation of injustice of every form, but because | 

of the material aid which the sale will secure to her, \ 

as she approaches the end of the voyage of life. I 

The government has not been as liberal with her, •) 
by way of awarding a pension, as it has in many 

other instances much less deserving. Her pension 1 

of twelve dollars per month is not large enough to ] 

furnish her with the common comforts of life, as I 
every impartial judge must admit. It is hoped and 
expected that the proceeds of the sale of this work 

will so supplement this pittance, which she receives \ 
from the government, as that life's sunset shall be 

undimmed by the mists of anxiety and unobscured i 
by the clouds of want. 

CHESTER HARRIS. , 

Albany, April 20, 1893. . \ 



CHAPTER I. 

"Each morning sees some task begin, 
Each evening sees it close ; 
Something attempted, something done. 

Has earned a night's repose." — Longfellow. 

After disposing of my first edition many of my 
friends and readers urged me to give them more of 
my real life. My reply was that time and means 
had both been limited, but I would give them more 
in my next edition. Consequently I add to my 
book, sketch by sketch, and will commence by 
relating an incident connected with a recent visit. 

I had been invited to spend the day with a family 
of old friends. Mother, son and myself were 
pleasantly seated conversing on different topics, 
when in came another member of the family — a 
professional gentleman. After shaking hands cor- 
dially he accosted me with, " I am mad at you, 
Kate ; I am going to quarrel with you." 

I felt a queer sensation at the top of my head. 
It must be that the roots of my hair are disturbed. 
Quickly recovering myself I said : 

'' Madness, doctor, means hydrophobia, and if we 
are to quarrel, doctor, sit down and let's have a 
pleasant time of it." 

"Well, I have read your book three times 
through." 



^' And that is what gave you the hydrophobia, 
is it?" 

" No," said he, " I approve of it, but there is not 
enough of it. Why did you not give us more of 
your real life ?" 

" Yes," said I, " but the book, even before read- 
ing, has brought an epidemic of hydrophobia to 
some portions of our city, especially among the 
managers of our charitable institutions ; but per- 
haps another dose of the same medicine might 
prove an antidote for the ill effects of the first. But 
if I were to give you the details of my whole life it 
would fill a volume as large as Webster's Lexicon. 
Then nobody would read it. Now the book is of a 
readable size. Then, you know, it is altogether dis"- 
agreeable to look in a mirror and behold nothing 
but our OAvn deformities. Satan is said to keep his 
cloven foot well covered, lest it proclaim him Satan, 
when he would pass as a saint, and, if my book 
should prove like a mirror, the more there is of it 
the more aggravating it might be, unless it might 
also give us some suggestions of reform." 



CHAPTER II. 

•' For the soul is dead that slumbers 
And things are not what they seem." — Longfellow, 

In the morning of life we are very unsuspecting 
creatures. All things are just what they appear 
to be. 



The artless child dreams of no disagreement 
between the apparent and the real ; but before the 
sun has reached its zenith, and while it is yet fore- 
noon, we are cruelly surprised to find that " it is not 
all gold that glitters," and our diamonds prove too 
frequently to be but burnished brass. 

Who of us, even as children, have not found our- 
selves sadly mistaken in our estimate of people and 
things? When character and quality have proved 
a failure, our supposed jewels only worthless peb- 
bles, our beautiful things but deformities, and dis- 
appointments have seemed almost to crush our young 
hearts, and drive us back within ourselves, until we 
fairly recoil from the touch of humanity, we become 
so distrustful and cynical that we feel prone to let 
faith drop entirely and drift with the tide. Like 
the little girl, who, upon finally learning that Santa 
Claus was only a myth, lost faith in her parents, 
and coming to her mother, said : " So there is no 
Santa Claus after all, and it is only you and papa 
who fill my stockings on Christmas? " '' I suppose 
so," her mother replied ; when the child with childish 
disgust said, ''And I don't suppose there is any God 
either ; you have probably been fooling me about 
that too." 

This loss of faith in childhood, this finding out 
that older people are not so good and pure as we 
have thought them to be, is one primal means of 
sending many a little boy and girl to the bad, and 
ultimately filling our prisons and electric chairs. 

It is so extremely difficult to distinguish between 



8 

the false and the genuine that we are constantly 
mourning over disappointments from misplaced 
confidence and treacherous friendships. What we 
want and what we need is more real life and more 
of real truth in our lives. 



CHAPTER III. 

*' Two tender feet upon the untried border 
Of life's mysterious land." — Ajiou. 

The little girl of Mr. L. has strayed away. The 
villagers and lower neighborhood are all out search- 
ing the woods and farm, and draining the raceways 
and flumes, but have found no trace of the child. 
The raceway leading from the upper mill to the oil 
mill below is about an eighth of a mile. This was 
thoroughly searched, every corner of the mills was 
gone over, the company was about giving up the 
search and were fearful that she must have gone to 
the large stream, which was very high at this time. 
It would be very difficult to find her. Just at this 
time Mrs. S., who was living on the bank near by, 
as she was walking along, noticed some little doll's 
garments fastened on the hooks of the tender bars. 
She thought for a moment, " this is Kittie's work. 
She has surely gone to the large stream and is 
drowned ! Before I see her mother I'll go down the 
bank and see if I can find any traces of her." Very 
soon she found little footprints in the sand. 
*' Now I'll see where she found her way into the 
water ; working my way through the brushes, I came 



9 

to a large flat stone projecting into the water, and 
there lay the little adventuress fast asleep with a 
doll garment in one hand, the other under her head." 
Mrs. S. looked at her a moment and said to herself, 
*' Well, you are a little body, but you have raised a 
regiment who are fighting for you on land and 
water ! " She caught her up and carried her up on 
the bank, held her with one hand and raised her up 
in sight, and the nearest gun was fired which gave 
the signal that the child was found. All this time 
Kittie Avas improving her lungs in high soprano, and 
was taken to her mother. 

Among the workmen was a fine musician who 
taught dancing school in winter and worked in the 
shop the rest of the year. He had a long table in 
the shop and on this he gave Kittie lessons in 
dancing. She had an outfit of tight pants made of 
red pressed cloth, a sailor jacket and soldier cap. 
She was fond of dancing and made great progress. 
She had no playmates, being the youngest of twelve 
children, and those living were grown to man and 
womanhood, and some were married. But Kittie 
would always find something to amuse herself with. 
One day, after her mother had dressed her nicely, 
she went out to catch birds, as she called them ; 
found a large number gathered around a mud 
puddle. She approached them softly with her 
apron uplifted, fell upon them, as she thought, but 
her butterflies were not to be caught, but Kittie was 
in a sad plight ; her face and dress were covered 
with mud ! 



10 

Kittie had a place of punishment, a little stair- 
way room with a stool in it; in this she was put, 
sometimes for a half hour or more or less, accord- 
ing as her disobedience demanded. This was called 
by Kittie her jail-house. When she sav/ herself 
covered with mud she knew that she was now to go 
to her place of punishment. Off she started and 
entered her jail-house unperceived. She remained 
there until the regiment was on duty. She opened the 
door softly, peeped out her head ; her mother looked 
up, saw the little fright and almost fainted, saying : 
" Kitty, is that you ? " '' Tesmam." " Where have 
you been?" " In my dail-housCo" "Who put you 
there?" "My own self." "What made you go 
there ? " " Tause I was naughty and dot muddy." 
"And then you went into your jail-house?" 
" Tesmam." " Well, something must be done with 
you, my lady, this will never do ; every few days 
the whole place is in an uproar in looking after 
you — the workmen have to quit their work and 
lose three or four hours to find you." " Will oo 
teep me in my dail-house, mama, and may Wooly 
tay by me?" All this time Kittie was going 
through a process of having the mud washed from 
her head and face which had dried on. Her father 
comes in. " What in this world is the matter now 
with my little girl?" "Yes," said her mother, 
" look at her, she was mud all over catching butter- 
flies." " Yes, papa, I dust went in my dail-house a 
drate while." " Yes, my little heroine, and had a 
regiment at your command ; you shall have a ride 



II 

with me to-morrow. She has to do something, she 
has no one to play with her but Wooly, her cat.'* 
" Yes, papa, Wooly is so dood, tan her go riding 
to-morrow?" "No, Kittie, she can't ride horse-^ 
back ; I can't hold her and you both on the horse." 
The next day Kittie had a fine ride on horseback 
with her father. She said : " Papa, they tant put 
me in my dail-house to-day ; nor they tant hunt for 
me tause I taint there." 

Kittie and her cat Avere constant companions ; 
Wooly could open the doors and walk in at any time. 
Her father was expected to be out the coming night 
until a late hour and gave orders to leave the back 
hall door unlocked. That night after the family had 
retired the mother awoke and heard the rattling of 
the room door-latch. She listened but heard no 
footsteps. She became alarmed, arose and stepped 
out into the hall and called up the help ; the house 
was soon lit up and a thorough search was made. 
The family living on the bank came to the house to: 
help solve the mystery. Both the room and hall, 
doors stood ajar. There was at the time a few 
hundred dollars in the book-case which was undis- 
turbed. But surely some mischief was intended. 
Both families held a genuine watch-night. Only 
Kittie and her cat were asleep regardless of 
the watchers. The day following the father 
and mother and Kittie were in the room. The 
door was shut. They were talking over what had 
transpired the previous night when the same 
rattling of the latch began, the door opened and in 



12 

came Miss Wooly. Kittie snatched her up in her 
arms, saying: ''Papa, Wooly tan open every door 
in the house." The father said to her : " Take Wooly 
and put her out of the back door and shut it." 
Kittie did as she was bid, put Wooly out and 
shut both doors. In a few minutes the latch 
of the hall door commenced rattling, and then 
the room door-latch, and in came Wooly pur- 
ring around Kittie. " Well," said the father," there 
is your burglar." Mother said : " We must give 
that cat away." " No, ma, Wooly is mine and you 
tant give her away taus I go with Wooly." " No," 
said her father, " they can't take Wooly from you, 
and you shall have a nice ride to-morrow ; Wooly can 
keep your regiment out at night, and my little lieu- 
tenant can command them by day." "Yes, papa, I 
tan." Kittie had a nice ride the next day. Shortly 
after this, Kittie was missing again. Her regiment 
were looking for her, when one of the company saw 
her on the back piazza rubbing her eyes. As he 
approached her, he said, " You little runaway, where 
have you been ? " "I taint runaway, I was sleep- 
ing." "Sleeping; where were you sleeping?" 
" Under my bed." " What made you go under 
your bed ? " " Taus the flies tudent bite me." 
" Now, my little girl, you will be taken to your jail- 
house." " Tes, Wooly, tan go with me, and papa tan 
take me riding." 

The poor child had become so accustomed to her 
jail-house that she was sure the penalty would be 
paying for a ride. She was always cheerful if she 



13 

could have Wooly to accompany her. She was 
always questioned by her father when he came 
home if she had been a good girl. She would tell 
him all ; how she and Wooly were to go to the 
jail-house, " taus she go sleep under the bed and 
tudent hear them call." 

When Kittie was quite young she was inclined to 
be religious. She was taught to say her prayers at 
night, and would almost always remember the text 
when she came from church. One Sabbath there 
was communion at the church. Kittie wondered 
why she was passed by. Very soon three of her 
little friends came to spend the rest of the day. 
Kittie went into the cellar, took a bottle of spruce 
beer and some cake, and said to her little company, 
'' Come with me down to the mill." The oil mill 
had a large platform. On this she invited her com- 
pany and said to them, " This is Sunday. We must 
be good. Now we will have a meeting. Augustus 
must be the minister and I will pray. Then we will 
sing 'The New Jerusalem Came Down.' Then 
Augustus will give us the communion." All this 
was done with great solemnity. The benediction 
was: '' Lord, keep us. Amen." 

We returned to the house. My company stayed 
to tea, and left for home. " What is the matter 
with my little girl? She is looking very sober.'* 
'' I is very good, papa ; I took the communion to- 
day." ''What!'* "Yes, papa, we all did; Gussie 
was the minister ; I prayed, and we all sung ' New 
Jerusalem,' and Gussie gave us cake and beer, and 



we don't play ' it is Sunday.' " " Well, Kitt, I don't 
know what to do with you." " Send me to school, 
papa." ^' It is too far for you to go alone ; we shall 
teach you at home, until you are older." From this 
time her schooling commenced. Her father would 
teach her at night, or some member of the family 
would teach her, until she was six years old. She 
then went to school. 

The early years of school life passed pleasantly, 
filled with such incidents as a naturally romantic 
girl usually meets with. I loved my teachers and 
they seemed fond of me. I remained in school until 
I was fourteen years old, and had, even though 
young, noted many things which I shall hereafter 
speak of. 

CHAPTER IV. 

"Lead me to mercy's ever-flowing fountain 

For thou my shepherd, guard and guide shall be." 

At the age of eleven I was awakened under the 
preaching of Rev. J. Wait, a Methodist clergyman. 
I was hopefully converted and united with the 
Reformed Church, of which the Rev. Paul Weid- 
man was pastor. This godly man was installed 
under very discouraging circumstances. The 
former pastor was a man wholly unfit for his charge, 
cruel in his family and very intemperate. The 
flowing bowl flowed altogether too freely in the 
house of the shepherd, and too many of his flock 
followed in his footsteps. Consequently the church 



15 

had become greatly demoralized. And here I must 
speak of a rather amusing incident connected with 
the prevalent intemperance of the church. 

Among the farmers living some distance from 
.church it was of course desirable to have dinner as 
nearly ready on their return home as possible ; there- 
fore, whatever preparations could be made before 
starting for church were usually made. In one family 
the good housewife had decided upon a dinner of 
sauerkraut and pork, and as the kraut needed more 
cooking than the pork the good woman placed the 
sauerkraut in the kettle and the pork on the table 
to be added to the boiling mess at the last moment. 
She also placed on the table, where they would be 
handy, her little foot-stove, hymn-book and hand- 
kerchief. She had also imbibed freely of her bitters, 
as the morning was cold and she must be kept 
warm ; therefore, for her stomach's sake, she had per- 
haps taken a drop too much. At length her hus- 
band drove to the door with the sleigh. She 
hastened to put the pork in the kettle, wrap the 
hymn-book in her bandanna, catch up her foot-stove 
and get into the sleigh. This lady had a fine voice 
and was one of the leading singers. Arriving at the 
church she took her accustomed seat conscious of 
being ^' all right." The minister prayed and read a 
hymn. The woman unwrapped her handkerchief 
to get at her hymn-book, when to her utter sur- 
prise, and to the amusement of her nearby com- 
panions, she had the pork carefully wrapped and 
brought to church, while the hymn-book was at 



i6 

home calmly singing in the kettle with the sauer- 
kraut. Nevertheless this was a highly respectable 
woman, a generous, kind-hearted woman, beloved 
by her friends and respected by her acquaintances, 
the mishap to her hymn-book being due entirely 
to the prevailing practice of that day, viz., drinking 
rum. 

But under the preaching of Mr. Weidman, who 
was a wide-awake, God-fearing Christian gentleman, 
things began to improve. The indifferent, apa- 
thetic, wine-bibbing church members began to 
awaken to a true sense of duty. Revival succeeded 
revival until what had been but a church dormant 
became a church militant. One of the most pow- 
erful church awakenings ever felt in Central New 
York occurred under the preaching of this earnest 
man ; and yet, after a time, this minister, who had 
labored so assiduously for this people, and who had 
succeeded in building up a church in numbers and 
prosperity until it shone a beacon-light to the sur- 
rounding Christian world, was brought into trouble 
with his church. Mischief-mongers began circu- 
lating the statement that he was preaching his old 
sermons over the second time. It was said that 
whenever he came to the bottom of his basket he 
would begin at the beginning again. This accusa- 
tion was absolutely false, as many knew. He did 
repeat a sermon on one occasion by special request, 
and this was a strong point with his enemies. Dis- 
agreeable comments were made against him, he 
was not up with the times, was old-fashioned in his 



17 

style and opinions, his oratory was not fine enough 
to satisfy a certain few who knew as little of true 
oratory as they did of Greek, and probably could 
not have given any kind of definition of the word 
had they been asked. These are the kind of people 
who are always the most eager critics. Differences, 
disagreements and complications arose until it was 
no longer pleasant to minister to this people, and 
the pastor severed his connection with his once 
loved church and sought other fields of labor, leav- 
ing many, however, whose friendship for him and 
reverence for his memory will know no end. 

Mr. Weidman was my first spiritual teacher. He 
it was who first awakened in my young heart the 
desire to benefit others, and at the age of twelve 
years I was anxious to be a missionary. My pastor 
told me I was too young, but gave me a missionary 
pamphlet, on the title page of which was the por- 
trait of a hideous creature in the form of a woman 
in the act of devouring a living infant. She was 
called by the natives " Female Devil." As such 
they worshipped her as their idol, or their god. 
My pastor said, '' Kittie would you like to meet 
ho;, and what would you do with her?" ''Yes, I 
would like to go and kill her." '^ But we don't send 
missionaries to kill the heathen, but to Christianize 
and save them." " Yes, but she is the devil and 
eats babies, and who ever heard of a Satan being 
saved ? Mr. Weidman, I would kill her if I cculd 
kill the devil." This ended my first missionary 
panic. A latent longing for missionary work has 
2 



i8 

always pervaded my whole life, and now, at the age 
of three score years and ten, I still think that had I 
been educated and prepared for the work, it might 
have proved my most successful field of labor. 

But to go back to our church. Pastor after pastor 
succeeded Mr. Weidman. Their stays being short, 
little good or satisfaction was gained by their min- 
istries. At length the life of the church began to 
assert itself. A new church edifice was erected and 
an eloquent and fearless man was installed its pas- 
tor. For several years the church prospered 
greatly, the minister being popular, and compara- 
tive harmony existing. As I said, the minister was 
a fearless, out-spoken man, and on a Thanksgiv- 
ing he though it best to point out some of the short- 
comings, some of the sins of omission and com- 
mission of the infallible four hundred. He gave a 
plain truthful sermon which probed the recesses of 
the secret heart, but it sealed his doom. The popu- 
lar pulse had been touched, a sharp lancet had 
struck many a vein of pride, vanity and selfish- 
ness. The hit aristocratic birds fluttered till their 
flapping wings created — not only a gentle breeze — 
but a general cyclone which wafted the incautious 
pastor to another part of the country. 



CHAPTER V. 

'* Standing with reluctant feet 
Where the brook and river meet, 
Womanhood and childhood fleet," — Longfellow. 

But a heavy affliction awaited me. Within three 
months I lost my father and mother. I had just 
reached the age of fourteen, and was left homeless. 
I had acquired a thorough knowledge of the com- 
mon English branches and had commenced in 
several of the higher studies, but now the time had 
come for me to leave school. I must earn my living. 
O, my, what shall I do ? I can cut and make my 
own dresses, but I dare not undertake to do for 
others ; but I did do for others, and in less than two 
months I had done quite a little work. Just at this 
time a friend came to me and asked, would I like 
to teach school? '' O, yes, but I am too young. 
They never have had a lady teacher and of course 
would want an older teacher." " Well, you are 
large enough, and they wont ask your age." " Well, 
if they do, FU tell them just the truth. But I 
would X\V^ to teach." In a few weeks I was called 
upon for examination before Judge G., Lawyer D. 
and Dr. P. S. I passed, received my certificate and 
commenced teaching the first of May. I opened 
my school by reading a chapter in the New Testa- 
ment with my scholars,, and had prayer. 

My school was but two miles from the village, and 
this gave me an opportunity to continue my studies 



20 

and recite them to my former teacher, Mr. W., the 
principal of the academy. My school was quite 
large, which required more than my lawful hours in 
teaching. I was very much interested in my school 
and became much attached to my scholars, and I 
was in the midst of a church-going community, of 
Lutherans and Reformers. 

They had engaged me only for the summer 
months, but before the summer months were passed, 
I was engaged for the winter, and so on, until I 
had remained with the good people of Stony Brook 
three years and six months. I had not altogether 
abandoned my missionary fervor, but commenced 
home missionary enterprises. There was a class of 
natives living on the mountain a few miles from 
my native village. They were a mixture of colored, 
white and aborigines ; were given to drinking fire 
water, to other bad habits, and were ignorant and 
illiterate. They were a neglected, despised class of 
people. Here was a field for home missionary labor. 

About this time we had a missionary meeting. 
A lady came to me to subscribe for another year- 
I said, ''No, Mrs. P., I want every dollar that I can 
spare for home missionary work." A short time 
after this I called upon this lady, asking her to let 
her daughter go with me on the hill to establish a 
Sabbath-school. '* I have already the promise of 
Mr. K. to go, and if you will let U. go, I will look 
no further." " Why, no, I can't think of such a 
thing. It would not be safe for you to go there. 
It is no place for young girls to go." ''Would you 



21 

let one of your daughters go to Ceylon, or any other 
foreign mission?" ''O, well, that is another thing, 
a large company go together." '' Mrs. P., the Lord 
will go with me and I'll go." I received a note from 
a Christian young lady offering her services to go 
with me. So Miss M. J. Ackerman and Mr. Kings- 
ley and myself took our lunch and off we started on 
Saturday morning, that being the only day we 
school-teachers had to ourselves. 

We reached the settlement at ten o'clock and 
visited every cabin and hut, also a few farmers liv- 
ing in the vicinity. We made them acquainted 
with our business — the object was to establish a 
Sabbath-school for the benefit of those children who 
were not able to attend school on account of the 
distance, and for other reasons. We told them to 
prepare seats in the grove and the next day at one 
o'clock we would meet them, and open our first 
missionary Sabbath-school. After our weary day's 
work-we returned home. I then called upon a few 
of our friends to go with us the next day, as 
teachers, and to take suitable books for those poor 
children, also for the adults. The next day, after 
morning service, there was quite a little company of 
us home missionaries marching up the mountain 
with a pretty good supply of books. We were all 
very happy, on reaching the place, to find a large 
company, varying in age from five to fifty ; among 
the number was a fine-looking colored woman 
named Mary, who was raised at the South. She 
seemed to have been living with people of intelli- 



22 

gence and refinement. I became very much inter- 
ested in her as my pupil, and in a short time she 
could read in her Testament and was hopefully con- 
verted, In the winter season we met at one of the 
cabins. The trio was very punctual — neither lost 
a Sabbath during the first year. No matter what the 
weather was, rain or snow, they too were at their 
post. In a little over a year there were between 
twenty-five and thirty united with the church. We 
had preaching as often as we were able to procure 
a minister, and prayer meeting once a week. A 
school-house was erected and the log cabins and 
huts have disappeared, and many of the children of 
the Sabbath-school grew to be respectable, and 
married into good families and made good citizens. 
It has lost the old name of ^' Slaughter hill," and the 
mountain is now a beautiful farming neighborhood. 
The Sabbath-school continued for a number of 
years. 

My duties and work were too arduous for my 
health. I was obliged to relinquish some of them. 
I taught school five and a half days in the week, 
had a band meeting of young ladies every Sabbath 
morning at eight o'clock, attended morning service 
and evening prayer meeting. The burden was too 
heavy for my age. I had two recitations during the 
week. In fact, I found employment for every 
hour of my life. My home missionary work is very 
dear to me, but that terrible hill of a mile is begin- 
ning to make me tired. The rest of the distance I 
don't mind. 



23 

For nearly two years I have gone that distance, 
and the Lord has sustained me ; but I must give it 
up for the present. Others have taken an interest 
in it, and are doing a good work. My two faithful 
friends are at the school yet. 

I also started a Sabbath-school, for eight o'clock 
Sunday morning, at my school-house. There were 
plenty of teachers in this neighborhood. It being 
the same hour as my band meeting, I could not 
meet with them. 

Shortly after this I had a call to assist in another 
Sabbath-school on another hill two miles long and 
two more on the level. I soon dispensed with this ; 
my help was not necessary. I taught at Stony 
Brook three years and seven months. A teacher 
never had better scholars nor a better district. 
The people were mostly Lutherans and Reformers. 
There was one Methodist family at the extreme end 
of the district. 

I returned to my native -village with the expecta- 
tion of attending the academy, but the trustees of 
the village school gave me a call to teach. At this 
time the third teacher within the year had left the 
school of eleven scholars. But they thought the 
influence of a lady teacher would be more success- 
ful, and the rude boys be more passive. My brother 
opposed me, saying, " Kitt, the boys will have you 
in the creek the first thing, and then what will you 
do? " " Take a swim, to be sure. God who calms 
the boisterous ocean can settle this matter." ''Yes, 
but you must remember that you cannot open that 



24 

school with prayer." " The Lord will take care of 
that matter." ''Yes, but He will not take care of 
you in this matter." " I am larger than a sparrow ; 
He takes care of them." I took my Testament and 
started off to my school, not the least afraid of con- 
sequences. I entered the school-room, which was 
filled to overflowing with students, differing in ages 
from five to twenty-five. When I opened the door 
of the school-room, I said, "A happy good morning 
to you, my young friends. I think we shall have a 
pleasant school." I asked those who had Testa- 
ments to read a chapter with me, and those who 
felt disposed to kneel should do so, and at the close 
repeat the Lord's Prayer in concert. So far* all my 
requests were complied with, and but one out of 
the sixty remained seated during prayer; all knelt 
save this one. I saw no signs of a swim. I taught 
from December until the last of April. About this 
time there were new trustees elected. A lady 
friend of mine was teaching a small select school in 
the village, who lost a few scholars by my teaching 
the public school. The new trustees engaged my 
lady friend to take the district school, and raised 
the salary. She, of course, accepted the position, 
and commenced teaching on a very small scale, 
only fifteen students. The old trustees, feeling 
very indignant at the treatment I received, asked 
me if I would open a select school if they could 
procure a suitable place. They told me that the 
whole community felt hurt at the management of 
the new trustees in this case. I gave my consent 



25 

to teach a select school. For choice I had rather 
attend school, for I needed a change, but I did not 
relish the treatment I received, after putting the 
school in running order, after it had almost died out 
of existence. 

Two rooms were obtained and were made ready. 
I commenced my school with fifty-eight students* 
both rooms well filled. My friend of the public 
school taught one term and left for want of pupils. 
I would never allow myself to retaliate, but in this 
case I felt myself justified. Shortly after, a num- 
ber of applications were made by her employers for 
admission of a number of their children. My school 
was already too large, but I admitted a number of 
them. Consequently I was offered a large, com- 
modious school-room. 

About this time the Court-House was closed 
against holding religious meetings. The Methodist 
was the only denomination that occupied the place 
and of course was ejected. My school-room was 
large and could accommodate all who attended. I 
worshipped with them ^ my views harmonized with 
theirs on many points. I fully believed in the 
rights of women to speak and pray in public. My 
religious sentiments were always found where I 
could do the most good, and with my Methodist 
friends I had all the privileges I wished for. But on 
doctrinal points I was Calvinistic. I had set my 
face Zionward without looking back. I believe in 
going on to perfection through the spirit. I never 
lost my standing or membership in the Reformed 



26 

church. My name has always remained on the 
church record. There was at this time a great deal 
of clashing in the three denominations on doctrinal 
points. A feeling existed at this time (1842) very 
different from the present day (1893). The ministers 
of different denominations now shake hands and 
preach in each others' pulpits. It must be that the 
millennium is dawning. The watchmen are seeing 
eye to eye. Each may retain their own views upon 
some points. If one believes in the possibility of 
falling from grace, they would guard against it. If, 
on the other hand, one believes in the perseverance 
of the saints and impossibility of falling, all right ; 
let them not look back, with their hands on the 
plow. I think the fault in most cases is at the 
beginning a lack of genuine conversion. More of 
this hereafter. 

About the time of my teaching select school, we 
had a temperance revival, in which I took great 
interest. . One day a little girl came to me with her 
slate and asked me to write a temperance pledge for 
her. I said, '* Mary, what do you want with a 
pledge ? " *' O, we went to play temperance meet- 
ing at recess." I wrote something for her in the 
form of a pledge. I gave the matter no further 
thought. After this four of my scholars left school. 
They were always punctual, and very fine children. 
I must go and see them — they are sick or they 
would be in school ; but before I had time to call I 
attended a temperance meeting, w^hen a debate took 
place, and a lawyer of the no temperance side 



27 

remarked that a certain lady teacher in this village 
circulated the temperance pledge in school and took 
the names of the children, without consulting their 
parents. The father then arose and confirmed what 
was said. He took the children out of school for 
playing temperance, for it was nothing else. 
Children, he said, who are not capable of judging 
between right and wrong, signing the temperance 
pledge, and that without consulting their parents ! 
Well, I am sure I never circulated a pledge in 
school. I dare not rise and defend myself, for it is 
not proper for a lady to take part in a public debate* 
But I had just as much as I could do to keep from 
rising in self-defense. But I wrote my defense and 
gave it to Mr. T. Lasell to be read at our next 
meeting. 

From this time my temperance work began. I 
will fight the monster to the death. I asked a 
Methodist brother to sign the pledge ; he said no 
for our discipline is pledge enough. Yes, but that 
will make no difference ; the discipline forbids the 
buying and selling of slaves, but they buy and sell 
for all that. By having your name to the pledge 
you may save some one by your influence. He 
gave me his name. I had good success. My pledge 
was soon filled. More of this hereafter. 

I must give up teaching ; I need rest. Seven 
years have I been teaching with a vacation twice a 
year of only two weeks each, I close with a full 
determination to go from home to attend school. 
Before I was ready there was another call for me ta 



28 

take a school east of the village — this was my old 
neighborhood. Well, I will teach that school, and 
then close for a few years. Nothing occurred dur- 
ing this year of much account excepting the death 
of one of my little scholars. Annie Wood was a 
very sweet child. I missed her from school. I 
made inquiry as to the cause of her absence, and 
learned that she was sick, and wanted to see me. I 
hastened to her bedside and found her very sick. I 
said, " Anna, how do you do?" ''Very sick, Miss 
1^.; I don't think I can get well ; the doctor says so." 
*' Well, Anna, do you want to die ? " " Yes, ma'am, 
the Lord forgave my sins, and I am so happy I 
want to go to heaven where Jesus is." "Anna, how 
long have you felt so happy? " " Ever since I first 
attended school ; you talked to the children and 
then prayed for us, and ever since that first time I 
have prayed every day, and the Lord made me so 
happy." " Before you felt so happy, how did you 
feel?" "Awful bad, every thing that I ever did 
came up before me ; then I prayed to the Lord to 
forgive me, and then I was so happy." " Well, 
Anna, would you not like to get well and stay with 
us ? " " Yes, if I could be like you and teach school 
and pray." " Well, that you could do, should you 
get well." " Yes, the Lord knows what is best for 
me. I feel just all the time like I want to go to 
lieaven, and then when you come I will know you, 
and will you know me, Miss Lawrence ? " " Yes, 
Anna, I shall know little Anna Wood, who came to 
my school." This was the last day my little scholar 



29 

was detained on earth. I called in the evening ta 
see her. She was passing away. I asked how she 
was feeling. ''All well, Miss Lawrence; will you 
stay with me to-night ? " '' Yes, Anna, I came to stay 
with you." This little Christian disciple of nine 
years fell asleep in Jesus that night, to awake to a 
glorious morning of joy. She was taken from the 
cottage of the poor to a heavenly mansion. I dis- 
missed my school the day of the funeral ; had the 
scholars in procession from the house to the ceme« 
tery, after a brief and affecting discourse by Rev^ 
P. Snyder. His text was, '' Forbid them not, for 
such is the kingdom of heaven." I think that chil- 
dren have early impressions, and by proper train- 
ing would be fit subjects for membership in the 
Christian churches, not leave them out in the cold, 
exposed to evil influences, until they become hard- 
ened in sin. To my knowledge the Methodist 
church has taken children into membership as young- 
as nine years, and they have grown up to be Chris- 
tian workers. 

There was sickness in my father's family and I 
was sent for a short time to one of my brothers wha 
lived in the village. I had heard of Methodism, but 
was not allowed to go to their meetings. They had 
preaching in the public school-house. Now I 
thought I will go and call for one of my school- 
mates to go with me. I made one call, but she was 
not allowed to go ; they told me that they were 
very noisy and I must not go, stay here with Anna ; 
but my curiosity was excited, and of course I went^ 



30 

There was a small audience. I saw a Mr. B. and his 
wife, and thought they will be company home for 
me. After preaching, I waited for them to go, bat 
they tarried for another meeting ; there were quite 
a number stayed and every one arose and spoke. 
After they had all spoken, the minister came to me 
and said, " Well, my little girl, do you want relig- 
ion?" '' Yes, sir; I want to be good." He talked 
very nice and then prayed for me. Mr. K., a 
political friend of my father, came and spoke to me 
on the subject of religion, and then knelt in earnest 
prayer for the daughter of his friend ; he also 
prayed for my father. From that time I became 
very thoughtful. Previous to this my sister E. pur- 
chased me a book. It was the experience of a 
Green Mountain girl. I read this book with great 
interest ; it made a deep impression, on my mind, 
which, together with this evening's exercises, ended 
in my conversion after a long and severe struggle. 

I had two places for secret prayer. Through the 
warm weather I had a little bower for prayer near 
the house ; a little grove of small trees shielded me 
from observation ; here I would read my Testament 
and have my prayer twice a day. In cold weather a 
small bedroom answered my purpose. Mothers sent 
their daughters for religious instruction. I attended 
service at the school-house. The neighbors hearing 
of it came and told my father that they saw me 
kneel on the dirty school-house floor, that he must 
not allow such a thing. But my father knew that 
his little girl could take care of herself > She was in 



31 

good company ; let her alone ; he was acquainted 
with a number of those who belonged to that body, 
and felt no fears of my going into improper com- 
pany. But the rest of the family were opposed to 
my being a Methodist ; consequently I united with 
the Reformed church. The minister, being a Chris- 
tian gentleman, wished my friends to leave me 
alone ; it would not hurt me to hear other denom- 
inations, and that I was too young to be persecuted. 
This gave me an opportunity to attend other 
churches. Dogmatism was not a trait in my 
character. I attended Methodist meetings, especi- 
ally prayer and class meetings, so that I felt myself 
a member of both churches. More of this further 
on in the near future. 

The death of Anna Wood was the only death 
that occurred during my eight years' teaching, 
which was very remarkable. In my school I had a 
miss of fourteen years. She said to me one day, 
'' Miss L., mother thinks that if I come to your 
school one year, and afterward go one year to the 
academy, that I'll know enough to teach a summer 
school." " You Avill, if you attend to your studies,^' 
which she did. Before my year closed, one of my 
old employers came to my school-house and asked 
me to teach their school, which was a branch of the 
''Stony Brook." I said, ''No, Mr. R., I shall leave 
directly after my school closes, for one year's vaca- 
tion. I have taught eight years, and I must rest. 
But I can provide you a teacher from among my 
pupils, if you wish " " That will do, if you think 



32 

her capable." "She is capable, but she is young." 
'^ When could I see her ? " " Next week ; if you call 
here, I'll go with you." *' Very well ; good morn- 
ing." There on the bench sat my young miss in her 
short dress, blue eyes, light hair, and her id 
inclining to one side. " Now, my little girl, you 
must play the Avoman. I'll help you." That even- 
ing I turned dressmaker. I soon had her ready for 
inspection. I accompanied her before the inspect- 
ors. She received a satisfactory certificate. On 
the day appointed, the trustee called at my school. 
He met the young lady, and said, " She looks very 
young." "Well," I said, "she is as old as I was 
when I taught your school." " Yes, but you were 
taller." " Well, she has the brains, and that is more 
necessary than height." " Yes, but she don't look 
like you." "Well, do you want her?" " Yes, I'll 
take her for the summer." She stayed a year. 

Soon after my school closed my trunk was»packed, 
and I was on my way to New York ; made a short 
visit, and left for New Jersey, where I spent several 
months. While in Orange I became acquainted 
with an English family, consisting of a gentleman 
and his wife, good Christian people, both with 
strong, anti-slavery principles. I, of course, for the 
first time, became interested in the subject, and 
became a willing convert. The last Sabbath of my 
stay in Orange was very rainy. Mrs. Kelso and 
myself were not able to go to church. Mr. K. was 
a class-leader, and of course attended. He said, as 
we were not able to attend church, I must write 



33 

something for them to remember me by. I com- 
menced poetry. I had never written poetry but 
once, and then only two or three verses. This was 
quite lengthy — eight or ten verses. He was quite 
p ed with it, being it was composed on the sub- 
ject of slavery. ''How is it, Mr. Kelso, that the 
discipline forbids the buying and selling of men, 
women and children, and yet the church allows that 
very thing?" ''Yes, the church South has gone 
into it, but I think there will be a change in the 
near future. I think the Lord will take care of that 
matter." " Well, Mr. K., I hope it will be soon." 

In a few days I started for home, Mr. and Mrs. 
Kelso accompanying me to New York. I came to 
Albany on the last boat of the season. A heavy 
snow-storm set in and it was impossible to get to 
Schoharie, but the word came that the stage went 
daily from Schenectady to Schoharie. I took the 
cars to Schenectady, but there was no conveyance 
between the towns on account of the snow-storm. 
I remained in town a week. An acquaintance in 
Ballston heard of my being snow-bound and came 
after me, and I went to Ballston. By going there, 
I got rid of teaching for a few months longer. Mr. 
Jones had a large family of children, and they made 
it very pleasant for me. I turned governess for the 
winter' — there were six who were old enough for 
schooling. In the spring the trustees wanted me 
to teach their public school ; I told them that I 
positively could not, I expected company from 
New Jersey, and must go to Schoharie. Let your 
3 



34 

company come here and we will do all we can to 
make them happy. I consented to teach one term 
and no more, which I did. A few days after my 
school closed, I was at one of the neighbors, and 
little Kittie Jones, my little namesake, came after 
me to come home in great haste. Some one was 
there who wanted to see me, but refused to tell 
who. I returned with her, and to my great surprise, 
found my dear friends from Orange, New Jersey, 
Mr. and Mrs. Kelso. Well, they were treated finely. 
We were taken to Saratoga Springs, Ballston Spa, 
and made Mr. Mayell an all-day visit. Mr. J. 
Mayell and Mr. Kelso were great workers in the 
reforms of those days — temperance and slavery. 
Mr. Mayell asked me my Christian name. " It is 
the good old-fashioned name of Catherine." " Well, 
do you write for a New York paper?" '' No, sir, I 
have never written for any paper." " Well, here it 
is with your name." " Mr. Kelso, have you done 
this?" ''Yes, for the good of the cause," he said. 
*' And you have had it published without criticism ? " 
*'Yes, that was all right." 

About this time I had made up my mind to 
attend school. J went to Saratoga to spend a few 
days with a friend of mine. While there I became 
acquainted with a lady who taught fancy-work. 
My knowledge in this department was quite limited. 
I at once availed myself of the opportunity, and 
made myself mistress of the art. My teacher asked 
me if I could get her a class of ladies at Ballston 
Spa. I said I'll try. I returned to Ballston and 



35 

gathered a large class for her in a few days, also a 
boarding place with rooms for teaching. In a short 
time the class was in working order. I was her 
assistant in teaching, and receiving instruction also. 
I had just finished my last course. The lady, Mrs. 
Haines, had just received a letter from home, for 
her immediate return on account of sickness in her 
family. She left the class in my care, and sold me 
all the working material. I paid her for the lessons 
she had given, and went on with the class. I 
finished in a few weeks and made quite a fine profit 
after paying for my board and rooms. I had more 
money for a month's labor than I would get for 
three months' teaching in a district school. 

I think I'll follow this work for a time. I under- 
stand so many different kinds, if one fails I can take 
up another. I may have more money to do good 
with. I did so and had all I could do. I followed 
this work for a number of years with success. It 
brought me in contact with the best of families. I 
also traveled considerably. I went to visit a sister 
who was living near Auburn, Cayuga county, N. Y. 
When I reached Auburn in the evening, it was too 
late for the stage. I called on the principal of the 
Young Ladies' Seminary, my former pastor in the 
Reformed church, in Schoharie. Here I met two 
young lady students, and my friends from S., the 
Misses E. and the minister's sister, another dear 
friend. We had a nice time. One afternoon Mrs. 
S. said to the young ladies, ''After tea you must 
take Miss L. out and show her the city." We were off 



36 

In a hurry, going here and there until it was growing 
late. We were then going through a back street. 
I said I would like to go to a '* Millerite meeting." 
Just then we came to a church ; we perceived a dim 
light. I said, '' Perhaps it is a Second Advent 
church." They all said they thought it might be, 
but none of the party knew. Just then a gentleman 
came to the door. I said, " Is there service here?" 
''Yes, madam, walk in." We did walk into a room 
that Avould seat about fifty, and to our dismay we 
were caught in a lively Methodist class-meeting. 
After the members were through speaking, they 
called upon Miss E. E. She answered very readily. 
Next Miss S. She arose and spoke nicely. Now 
Miss L. I, being accustomed to class-meeting, was 
at home, but my poor young friend by my side 
committed herself at once. They had a season of 
prayer. She was deeply affected. Both the young 
sisters were converted that night before they retired. 
Mr. and Mrs. S. instructed and prayed with them, 
until the burden of their sins was removed. They 
were church-going people, but these young ladies 
had never professed r.eligion. Well, we had a 
good time while together. My brother-in-law came 
for me, and I left my young friends regretfully. 
Miss S. and I never met again. O how many of my 
dear Christian friends have left me to work for the 
Lord. The messenger must come before long. My 
visit to Throopsville was rather a singular event. 
There were two denominations — Baptist and 
Church of the Disciples. My brother-in-law, an old 



37 

school Baptist, was constantly urging me to be 
baptized by immersion. '' Yes, but if I should be 
baptized by a Baptist, I cannot commune with my 
church ; that I can't do ; you must let the matter 
rest." But the matter did not rest. Finally I 
became acquainted with a few of the members of 
the Church of the Disciples. I attended their 
church quite often. I found them Bible Christians ; 
also that they would baptize me by immersion, and 
I was baptized by immersion without leaving my 
church. *' Well, Kate, you have worked your point 
very well. I think you would make a good lawyer.'* 
'' Yes, my good brother, if there was a possibility of 
my being admitted to the bar, I would commence 
the study of law at once. The first syllable of my 
surname is Law. If my father had lived, no telling 
what profession I should have chosen. The Lord 
knows what is best for us, and if we fully trust in 
Him, He will direct aright." 

Some time after this event, I was visiting two of 
my old schoolmates, who were members of the Bap- 
tist church, excellent Christian ladies. I attended 
church ; we were seated in a side pew — it was com- 
munion. When the communicants were asked to 
take the body pews, they both started. One said 
to me, " Come, go with us ; it is the Lord's table." 
I did so. After service the minister passed through 
the crowd, reached over some others, and shook 
hands with me, saying, '' I see you are a Baptist ; 
you communed with us." "Yes, sir; but I am a 
Presbyterian, and I thought it was the Lord's table." 



38 

He bowed and smiled. No doubt he thought it 
all right. He gave us an excellent sermon before 
communion. 

While I remained at Throopsville I had a severe 
sickness which reduced my weight considerable. 
After I was better, there was quite a company of us 
went to be weighed. Among the number was a 
Methodist Episcopal clergyman, who was very 
portly. I was to step on the scale first ; my weight 
was one hundred and sixteen. ^' Well," he said, 
*' Miss L., vanity is light." " Yes, sir." Now he 
steps upon the scale ; down, down goes the scale, 
over two hundred. " O, Mr. Wood, sin is heavy." 
" Yes, you have me now." All this passed off 
pleasantly. I taught class after class in villages and 
cities, air that I could possibly do ; I had a large 
school in Geneva ; my classes lasted all winter. A 
most delightful time I had in that lovely town. I 
attended quite a number of entertainments; at one, 
dancing was introduced. I refused to join in that 
amusement, and was asked why I could not dance. 
'* Because I cannot serve the Lord in that exercise. 
We cannot serve God and Mammon at the same 
time." And the gentleman that asked me was 
attending the Theological Seminary at this time. 
It is so common for people to think that if their 
names are on the church record, they are safe. We 
certainly cannot grow in grace and serve the world 
in conforming to amusements of a nature wherein 
we cannot glorify God. 

Shortly after this there was a call for a directress 



39 

in an institution, and some of my friends were anx- 
ious to have me take the position. I had no knowl- 
edge of what my work would be. We called 
on the proprietor, who commenced questioning. 
'^ What has been your calling, Miss L. ? " '' Teach- 
ing." ^' Do you understand cooking and baking?" 
''Why no, sir." " O, I see; you understand Latin 
better than baking mince pie." '' Yes, sir." A little 
merriment followed the examination and we left. 
My next class was in the small village of H. I 
called at the house of a friend, and asked the old 
gentleman how many pupils he had for me. After 
he and his good lady inspected my work he looked 
at me and said : '' Well, can thee darn stockings?" 
''Yes, sir." "Well, then, thee can have three of 
my girls." " Thank you, friend." I had a fine class. 
After this I taught in the village of V. I had my 
class in a family where I had the best of enjoy- 
ment ; it was homelike. Mr. C. had been initiated 
into Odd Fellowship the night before. Mrs. C. 
and I were teasing him when I heard a tremen- 
dous noise of a mother hen and her chickens. I 
reached the kitchen first and there was the poor 
mother trying to get her little chicks out of the 
dough which was standing by the stove for raising. 
" O my," I said, " Mr. C, here are a lot of little odd 
fellows who want help ; come quick and help the 
poor old mother hen with her babies." " No," he 
said, " that belongs to you ladies. We don't initi- 
ate in that way." We had a merry time in extricat- 
ing the little mischiefs. 



40 

Quite a large company from Cleveland and Palnes- 
ville, Ohio, sisters and families, came to Mr. C.'s for 
a visit. They gave me an urgent invitation to visit 
them in Ohio. I promised to visit them the next 
summer. The time came, and I went to visit the 
Buckeye State. After a visit to Painesville one 
of the ladies accompanied me to Cleveland. At Dr. 
T.'s we were favored with fine peaches, which we 
enjoyed. One day we were to take a ride to Cleve- 
land proper — this was East Cleveland. Mrs. T. and 
sister spoke of getting some music, asking me if I 
had any choice, ''Yes," I answered, "get 'I have 
got the blues to-day,' and please let me ask for it." 
We reached the store. I said to the clerk, " Have 
you got the blues to-day?" ''No, madam, I am 
not subject to them," and gave me a queer look. I 
asked again, " Have you not got the blues to- 
day ? " He was angry. The proprietor came in 
his stead. I asked him for a piece of music bearing 
that title. He looked over his list but could not 
find it. He said he would send for it, which he did. 
It became quite popular on account of the joke. 
Well, my vacation is drawing to a close, and I now 
return to the old Empire State. I like Ohio and 
the people. Now I have had a good pleasant rest, 
and feel like working again. Back I came and took 
up my old business. I have had class after class 
until I think a change would be better for me ; 
perhaps I'll go to school. I started for Cazenovia. 
My cousin is steward there, and I liked the school. 
I reached the place and thought of attending school 



41 

the next term. A lady from New York was getting 
a class in oil painting. I joined her class and 
finished one course. About this time the anti- 
slavery people had an out-door meeting. I did not 
attend the meeting, but heard a great deal said 
against it. I thought it very strange that there 
should be so much said in favor of slavery, where 
the discipline forbids the buying and selling of 
men, women and children. 



CHAPTER VI. 

" Intemperance and slavery; thou two curses of our land." 

I at the time took part in the debate, and was a 
strong disciplinarian. " How is this," said I ; '' we are 
not living up to the requirements of the church 
discipline." Finally I was refused shelter at the 
seminary. I left the building and stopped with a 
friend for a short time in the village, who agreed 
with me on this point, but they were not quite so 
outspoken. A meeting was called to consider my 
lack of orthodoxy. I was to appear at an appointed 
hour. I did not appear, for I well knew that my 
orthodoxy was all right. After this I attended a 
Congregational church where intemperance and 
slavery were preached against as the greatest evils of 
the present day. I was asked before service com- 
menced to commune with them. I said, ''Yes," if 
one of the deacons and the minister will call upon 



42 

the minister and steward of the Methodist Episcopal 
church and ask if they knew anything in my Chris- 
tian character that they could not fellowship. 
They firmly replied, " No." What they objected to 
was my anti-slavery principles which I was constantly 
advocating. This was one of my graduating diplo- 
mas. After this I stood alone in the midst of 
opposition. I -very well knew what difficulties and 
persecutions awaited me in my own church. I was 
taught that it was a shame for a woman to speak in 
public, much more derogatory to her character to 
enter a pulpit. I had another hill to climb, longer 
and steeper than my '^ home missionary" hill. But 
" Lawrence won't give up the ship ; " it will carry 
me safe into port. God and humanity are at the 
helm — no looking back; onward is my motto; 
through storm and sunshine the Lord will sustain 
me. I know my calling. If I can save one soul 
from a drunkard's grave, I shall, be well rewarded. 
If half of our church members would direct their 
influence against these two great evils, how soon the 
victory would be won. But alas, a host is to be 
faced of those who once promised before God and 
man that they would renounce the devil and all his 
works, but at the first election they will go to the 
polls and cast their votes for ru7n. What an 
example for the coming generation. (They must 
be subject to terrible nightmare.) Their party 
must be sustained, if it does beggar wives and 
children, and fill our county houses with paupers 
and our prisons with criminals, and our lunatic 



43 

asylums with madmen. If one-half of the evils that 
are caused by intemperance could be traced to any 
other source — hydrophobia, for instance — every 
dog in the land would be killed ; mad or not mad, 
the animal must die ; but the demon intemperance 
is authorized to kill from twenty to one hundred 
thousand and more, annually, and our laws call him 
honorable and legalize his profession. O the 
injustice that is perpetrated, and the curse that falls, 
upon helpless women and children, but more of 
this hereafter. I continued in my occupation of 
teaching classes and laid aside my studies for the 
present. My mind was fixed upon a work in the 
near future, different from my present calling. The 
Lord never fails me ; He holds me by His power 
and surrounds me by His mercies. At this time 
there came an extra call from another direction. 
A young man was sentenced to be executed at 
Whitestown in a few weeks. His father had died 
from grief. 

His mother came to me, a stranger, asking if I 
could do something for her son. His crime was not 
murder, but arson in the first degree. He was only 
seventeen years of age. There were three concerned 
in the matter. One was executed, and one turned 
State's evidence. It was while this boy prisoner 
was awaiting the result of the trial of the one who 
was executed that the mother came to me to do 
something, if possible, for the life of her son. He 
was her sole dependence after the death of the 
father. Learning the condition of the afflicted 



44 

mother, I set about thinking how to begin my 
work. As I had had a similar case before, and was 
successful, I knew very well where to commence. 
First, a petition must be gotten up, and then the 
signatures of those who lost property and others of 
influence in the city of Utica, where the fire origin- 
ated. A well-known and prominent lawyer was con- 
sulted. He gave me my orders and I went to work, 
praying fervently that the Lord would help me as 
He always does in a good cause. I was successful. 
I had no trouble to get his sentence commuted for 
life. He gave no trouble while in prison ; he soon 
gave evidence of reformation, and united with the 
church in prison. Again the same messenger came 
to me for help. Three years had passed since the 
boy prisoner had left for Auburn. The sympathy 
which the people had for his youth and good 
behavior in prison made it less difficult to get the 
petition for his release signed. I commenced my 
work again, called upon the citizens, lawyers, alder- 
men, and at last and best, upon ex-Governor Sey- 
mour, urged him to write a letter to Governor Clark, 
which would finish up the work at once. He did so, 
and Lawyer Spencer carried it to Albany, presented 
it to the Governor, and in a few days returned with 
the pardon, and the son returned to his mother. 
He enlisted in the late war and died for his coun- 
try. I could trace the hand of the Lord through 
it all. 

I continued teaching and talking temperance, 
■occasionally giving a temperance lecture. NOw I'll 



45 

branch out, will go north. In Watertown I had a 
few acquaintances, and I'll have a vacation and go 
and see them. I met my old friend and lady teacher, 
now a Presbyterian clergyman's wife. We had a fine 
time in calling upon friends. At a new acquaintance 
of Mrs. S. we met quite a large number of ladies 
who had come to Watertown to hold a temperance 
convention. Among these were some of the best 
talent in the country. A Mrs. Foster from Illinois 
was there. She was a lady of superior talent, and 
would entertain an audience for nearly two hours. 
At this convention I was invited to take part. This 
was the second time of my entering a pulpit. Two 
clergymen of my acquaintance were in the audience, 
from one of whom I was sure I should receive a 
friendly admonition. The very next day we met, 
and sure enough he said to me, *' Miss L., I bid you 
God-speed in your work, but excuse me if I ask you 
to do two things when you lecture, namely, take the 
altar to speak from, and keep on your bonnet. "^ 
''Why, Mr. B., the altar is the most sacred place 
you can put me in. It is at the altar where the 
sacraments are administered, besides the pulpit is 
elevated above the audience, which makes it easier 
for the speaker. We ladies have not quite as strong 
voices as our brethren. As for my bonnet, God 
gave me something better for a covering than a bon^ 
net, a glorious covering for the head, always ready 
whenever I pray or prophecy, as we read in the 
word of God, i Cor., chap, i, verse 15. Am I right, 
Mr. B. ? " '' O, yes, yes ; my wife always addresses 



46 

the ladies at my revivals after service. She prefers 
the altar and always keeps on her bonnet, but it cer- 
tainly makes no difference about those things, the 
main thing is the amount of good we can do. Miss 
Lawrence, go on, do all the good you can, no 
doubt it is your calling. I'll help you all I can," and 
he did. Mr. B. and a Mr. C, both Presbyterian 
clergymen, sent out all my notices for Jefferson 
county. Now my temperance work begins in 
earnest. I meet with but little opposition, hardly 
enough to start me in great earnest, but come it 
will. Let anyone attack the prevailing evils of the 
land and they will find plenty of work, especially 
the rum traffic and slavery. The last-mentioned 
did not occupy quite as much of my time or ener- 
gies at the first of my public work. In fact the 
slavery reform had so many able workers in the field 
that it did not need my help. I had plenty to do 
in my temperance work for the present at least. I 
spoke every evening in the week, sometimes twice 
on the Sabbath — this occurred only when the 
minister was absent ; but by the request of the 
ministers of the Presbyterian church, I frequently 
spoke for the third time in the same place. Very 
often the snowbanks were so bad that it was with 
difficulty that we could get through. At one time 
we started to go through a regular blizzard the 
distance of five miles. We went half the distance, 
and were under the necessity of returning, and 
almost perished before we reached home. The cold 
was intense. The fire was kept up to a great heat 



47 

at the place of the expected meeting; the church 
took fire, but was, fortunately, saved by using snow, 
for they had no water. This was the only appoint- 
ment that I missed in the county. I was loath to 
give this up. I never relished a disappointment of 
this kind. The people of Jefferson county were 
very favorable to the cause of temperance, and I 
met with little opposition. With one or two 
exceptions I was treated with courtesy. My stop- 
ping places were mostly in the families of church 
people, and frequently in the families of clergymen. 
At Cape Vincent I met with a rebuff in a deacon's 
family. The madam met me at the door, shut the 
door after me, and placed a chair as near the door 
as possible. I saw at once that I was in the wrong 
place. I said, '' Madam, did you not receive a 
notice from Mr. B. of Watertown ? " '' Yes," said 
she, ''but I don't believe in a woman's lecturing." 
" But, madam, do you know where I am to stop for 
the night?" '^ I think the Methodist minister will 
keep you over night." I gave the poor woman a 
look, and saw that she had a singular expression. 
I left for the minister's house, where I was nicely 
entertained. The poor woman got the keys of the 
church, and no one could get them, but a good 
place was open for me, and I gave two lectures to 
crowded houses. There was one place where the 
notice was not sent. I asked the reason why, and 
was told that it was not safe for a lady to go there, 
for two reasons : first, there was no church, and I 
would be likely to receive eggs and bricks. " Well, 



48 

I'll send a notice. They have a school-house, and 
I'll give them a temperance lecture in that. I can 
stand eggs, but I don't know about the bricks. I 
profess to be a reformer, and must take the conse- 
quences. I'll go, the Lord will take care of me." 
The notice was sent — the time arrived. I must go. 
I reached the place — it was midwinter. Like all 
'* iron works," the snow covered with smoke and 
soot gave the place a dismal appearance. I called at 
the house of an elderly couple, who received me 
pleasantly, but remonstrated against my going to 
the school-house. LaAvrence can't give up the ship 
now, I thought. No, I can't retreat. They dold 
me a committee of ten would be ready to wait upon 
me, and take their seats in front of the desk. '' Ten 
gentlemen to wait upon one lady ! That is nice, 
but I have One to wait upon me, and He can take 
care of the ten." 

" Now, my friends, you will go with me ; and you, 
my brother, will open the meeting by prayer. 
First choose a chairman of one of the ten. He will 
ask me how my meetings are conducted ; and then 
you pray. Now we will go." We reached the 
house, which was large and commodious, and was 
packed. There was one public house, whose pro- 
prietor said if I came there he would set me out- 
side. I had no fear of this. The house was for the 
accommodation of the public. He would make 
himself liable to the law. 

The brother of the hotel-keeper was chosen chair- 
man. The meeting was opened by prayer, and I 



49 

commenced my evening work of an hour and thirty 
minutes. The committee of ten walked to the desk 
and shook hands. The landlord of the hotel and 
his wife invited me to their house. I said, ''Yes, 
I'll go, if you will allow me to give another temper- 
ance lecture, and have as many as can conveniently 
go to your house." ''Yes, all come along," he said ; 
and then we had another meeting. The proprietor 
had two sons, lads who were customers at the bar, 
and were rapidly approaching a fearful end. I heard 
a year afterward that the landlord sold the hotel 
and purchased a farm, and was doing well ; and the 
same year the people had erected a church. My 
friend, who was so fearful of my being treated to 
eggs, was most happily disappointed ; and, instead 
of the ten men taking the temperance woman, the 
one woman gained the victory. So much for trust- 
ing in the Lord. Have faith, and He will carry you 
through. 

I continued my temperance work nearly every 
evening, by forming societies among the young 
people ana children mostly, though some old peo- 
ple joined with us in the work. At this period we 
were working to get the Maine prohibitory law upon 
oar statute books. A host of ladies were constantly 
at work all over the State, and, indeed, in many 
States. Some States had already passed the 
" Maine law." We had a temperance governor, and 
our hopes were not to die. The good work went 
on, and at last came the joyful day. Our legislators 
did a good work. About this time, hotel-keepers, 
4 



50 

brewers, and I may as well say the rum power, met 
in convention. They met at the hotel where I was 
waiting for the stage. I asked the landlady the 
object of the gathering. She said that they were 
taking action against the temperance law, to break 
it up, because hotel-keepers could not live without 
selling rum. I opened the room door, thinking I 
might be able to hear something of their manage- 
ment that would be available for coming events. 
Almost the first thing I heard made my blood 
curdle. It was this : '' We must get our heads to 
work, and make this law unconstitutional." '' But," 
said some, ^' it will take a pile of money to do that. 
We must get all the brewers and venders to give 
liberally. Just think how many hotels, saloons, 
brewers and a host of others will combine in this 
business to help us. We already have $40,000 in 
our treasury, and we can raise $40,000 more. There 
are plenty of drinkers to help us. Now we shall 
have to work for it. You see how the women are 
working for temperance, and even children are being 
educated in it. Now we must work hard for our 
rights." ''Well, what is to be done first?" One 
lawyer said, " If we can prove that this temperance 
movement is unconstitutional, we shall come out all 
right." '' Yes, but it will take a pile of money to do 
that." " Well, we shall have to pay money if 'we 
expect to make money. .The lawyers will help us, 
you know. I tell you the power is with us. The 
lawyers will carry it to the judges of the Court of 
Appeals, and they can fix it all right for us. Money 



51 

can do a great deal, you know. We must work or 
we will all go to the devil ! " O, my ! I thought 
to myself, I wish you were all there now; then you 
would give this poor earth a little rest. If they 
knew I was listening and taking notes, I should 
have to walk, instead of riding in the stage. " The 
stage, madam." I left, glad to get away from the 
demon. 

Now, Miss L., put on your armor for a fight, an 
empty purse against $8o,ooo ! Only the one strong 
man is on our side. It cannot be possible that we 
shall after all be defeated in so good a cause. O, if 
our churches would wake up on this subject, the 
rum power could be crushed. 

There was another notice sent to a small village 
for me to lecture on the next Sabbath evening. The 
hour arrived, I went to the church, there was no one 
there but the minister and a few members. Just 
then a gentleman stepped up to me and said, 
'* Don't go in there ; your congregation is at the 
other church ; they are waiting for you." I met an 
appreciative audience, and was informed that the 
minister of the other church was the proprietor of a 
small copper mine (head). I met with little opposi- 
tion during the campaign. The closing up of the 
Jefferson county campaign was given at the Metho- 
dist Episcopal church at Watertown, where I gave 
the statistics of the county. 

A gentleman raised his hand, which was a token 
to ask a question. I assented. He said, ^' A cer- 
tain gentleman living in the county, aged ninety- 



52 

six, had drank liquor from boyhood and was now 
enjoying excellent health." ''Well/' I said, "he 
became pickled in pure liquor and the adulterated 
failed to kill him, which might not occur again in a 
century." My work being finished in Jefferson 
county, I now passed through part of St. Lawrence 
county, Lewis county, part of Oneida county, 
Madison, Onondaga, Cayuga, Seneca, Schoharie, 
and part of Albany. But the rum power prevailed. 
The judges of the Court of Appeals were in session 
at Albany, quite awhile fighting them. There was 
a tie — four were for sustaining the law and four for 
sustaining the rum power. One of the judges, who 
always sustained the law and professed to be a 
strong advocate for temperance, yielded to tempta- 
tion and rum was king. 

Reader, what do you think became of the rum- 
sellers' $80,000 or more? Well,, if you have a 
particle of Yankee blood in your veins, you can 
guess. 

After this my lectures were amalgamated with 
politics and slavery. While I was stopping at 
Seneca Falls I gave a lecture one evening on tem- 
perance. Next morning the door bell rang; I 
answered, and a stranger asked if I was the lady 
who gave the lecture last evening. I said I was. 
"Well," said he, " I am a stranger in this place; 
came from the East with my family on my way 
West. Our baby died last night and would you 
give me money to get a winding-sheet ? " " Have 
you a coffin?" "No, but I can get one." Said I, 



53 

" We don't use winding-sheets ; give me your name 
and stopping place, and I'll see that you have a 
coffin and shroud for your baby." '* No, I would 
rather have the money." '' Sir, you are a fraud.** 
He started. I hurried my brother-in-law after him ; 
both entered the bar-room ; he had just begun to 
have a good time. Mr. B. asked him if he was the 
man who wanted the winding-sheet ? The question 
was answered by his being sent to Waterloo 
jail, which was the next town from here. A call 
from a sick family comes next, asking if I would go 
and see what can be done for them. I go and find 
a very sick mother and a little daughter of ten years 
in the same room ; two little ones had been carried 
to their last resting place the day before. I said, 
" My sick friend, I have come to see what can be 
done for you." " O," she said, " the lawyer has just 
been here and given us notice that we must leave 
here by to-morrow, or he will put us out in the 
street. If I was only able to be up, but I am so 
sick and my husband is out of work, and cannot 
leave us. If we were only in Rochester, he could get 
work." " Well," I said, " don't you worry ; you 
shall not be put out of this house, unless it is to go 
into a better one." I got the amount of the house- 
rent, and enough besides for their present need and 
started out on my '' home mission." I met Mrs. J. 
A. R. who gave me a good start (she is always at 
the head of every good work), and by the next 
morning I had not only raised money enough to 
pay back rent, but to keep the family until they 



54 

were able to help themselves. I met the landlord 
in the street the day he was to set the poor helpless 
ones in the street. I said, " Stop, sir ; I want to see 
you on a little business about the family that lives 
in your house on the bank." *' Well," he said, '^ I 
cannot hear you now." " But you must, or I shall 
interfere in a way you won't relish," said I. " What 
do you want ? " he asked. '' To pay you the rent 
for that family." " O, yes, yes. Are you a rela- 
tive ? " ''Yes." ''How near?" "Ask Adam and 
Eve," said I. " Give me a receipt. Good morn- 
ing." This family was looked after until they were 
able to look after themselves. 

The ladies of Seneca Falls were workers in the 
reforms of the day. Temperance at the present 
time was of the greatest importance to them. There 
were altogether more liquor shops than the people 
felt willing to endure. The ladies met in conven- 
tion, the subject was agitated, and they came to the 
conclusion that a procession should be formed and 
a document be read at every hotel and saloon in the 
place. This was started, we were treated with 
courtesy, and as a result, one hotel-keeper, the best 
in the place, retired from the business altogether. 
We had one long, hard road to travel — along the 
canal, the distance of a mile perhaps. One of the 
ladies proposed that two of us take that street to 
find how many places there were for selling liquor. 
I of course was to do the talking and managing. 
We started. The first thing I asked was, " Have you 
you any fourth proof brandy." " No," he 3aid, 



55 

" but we have whisky." ''I don't want that," said 
I. *' O, you want it for medicine, do you?" I 
think there were eighteen such places, every one 
had whisky or poor liquor. They all sold the 
deadly poison, and men, women and children were 
the victims. It is so strange that our magistrates 
do not take hold of it in an effectual way. But 
self-interest blocks up the way of progress in this, 
as in all other reforms. 

Intemperance and politics rule our nation, and 
politicians work for their party, and the rum party 
has the money ; they can buy votes and make laws 
to suit themselves. 

There are restrictions in the matter of license 
and officers to carry them out, but how much is 
done for the good of the people ? When a man or 
woman gets intoxicated, they go to jail — if you can 
catch them — but the one that caused it goes clear. 
The* one who commits the murder is executed, but 
the one who stimulates him goes free. There is no 
doubt but that the greatest number of crimes are 
committed while under the influence of intoxicants. 
I have frequently traced them to their origin, and 
mostly always found this to be the case. One case, 
a fearful one, was the great fire in Utica. The 
citizens were, previous to this, in the habit of giv- 
ing entertainments to the firemen. A few were 
known to serve stimulants and urge them upon 
these men. These entertainments were at last 
known to be the indirect cause of the great fire ; 
showing that the crime had first to be stimulated 



56 

by Intoxicants ; the result of which was, one poor 
victim suffered the penalty of the law at Whites- 
town, by execution, leaving a wife and three small 
children, and two aged parents to linger out a life 
of sorrow and helplessness ; the other suffered the 
hardships of a prison and the privation of home and 
friends, causing the death of a father through grief. 
But money spared the heart sorrows of those who 
Avere the instigators. O, the injustice that is 
practised by those in power. Shall not the Judge 
of all the earth measure out justice to such? He 
said, ''As ye do to others so shall it be done unto 
you." Life is short at most, too short to neglect 
the duties God enjoins upon us, '' to do to others as 
Ave wish others to do to us." Time is too short to 
let it pass without doing one good deed for our 
Maker who has done so much for us. If we were 
living in a day of persecution, no one could go into 
the reforms without being persecuted. I well 
remember hearing of an anti-slavery meeting held 
in Utica. Gerrit Smith and son, and Phillips, from 
Boston, and numerous others were there, and 
Avere treated to a rain of bricks and eggs, and Avere 
obliged to retreat to Petersborough for safety. I 
heard Mr. Smith speak of this at his house. I kncAv 
something of persecution at my time of labor. The 
majority of the churches Avere too quiet. The min- 
istry Avere right, mostly, but the voting part of the 
church Avas Avhere the trouble lay ; their party must 
be sustained, reforms Avere of small account, but the 
time Avill come Avhen Ave as a nation Avill be made Avill- 



57 

ing to work by sad experience. At this time the 
Maine law is dead, the rum shops in full blast, and 
temperance workers discouraged and almost ready 
to, and some did give up the ship. But " Lawrence 
will not give up the ship " until she sails into port. 
There is something tells me that some terrible event 
is in the near future ; but I will not give up my 
work; I'll take a rest. I went to Moravia to visit a 
friend who is living in a nice quiet home surrounded 
by evergreens, just the place for good rest. I 
reached the desired place and was made very wel- 
come. Now I'll rest both mind and body. All went 
well for the first week, but before the second week 
ended a committee gave me a call to give a tem- 
perance lecture. I said yes, if they will form a 
regular temperance organization and work for 
temperance. This was agreed upon and the lecture 
was to be given on Sunday evening in the Presby- 
terian church. Now I shall take a vote before I say 
a word. If the people are willing to work in the 
cause, I am willing to help them. The evening 
came ; the large church, with its deep gallery, was 
well filled. I asked an expression of the audience. 
They arose en masse. I gave the lecture and gave 
notice that there would be an opportunity given, on 
Monday evening, for every one to seal their expres- 
sion, at the Methodist church. The pastor was 
present and requested a large attendance. The 
time came and a satisfactory number became mem- 
jbers, of both young and old. 

At this time I had another call to go to a neigh- 



58 

boring village, and, after a lecture, gather as large a ; 
number as possible into an organization. These 
societies were open to all, except on occasional 
business meetings. They were composed mostly 
of young people and children. These are the future 
of America, and if they can be educated to abide ' 
by temperance principles, this nation will be a happy 
people, for all intelligent and Christian people must 
admit that rum is the starting point of all the evils 
of the land. No candid person will deny it. Both 
of these organizations were worked, both were on 
the increase and were the opponents of intem- 
perance. Rumors were afloajt that our opponents ' 
were making ready for a Fourth of July celebration. 
I said to my people, " Now let us get our armor 
ready, and have a grand temperance celebration." 
All consented. The Presbyterian church was open 
for us, and we commenced work at once. We made 
fifteen large white banners on white cloth, repre- 
senting the States that were working for the Maiife ^ 
law. Different mottoes were worked with box- 
leaves. We also made a beautiful large white ban- 
ner, with the names of the three judges who were 
so firm in favor of the Maine law at the session of 
the Court of Appeals in Albany, worked upon it. 
Then another was being made at the house of my 
friend. This was a black monster with the motto ; 
" Rum Judges," and their names worked on it. The 
appointed day was near at hand. We engaged a 
speaker, the chaplain from Auburn prison. Rev. Mr. 



59 

Ives, who was one of the most eloquent speakers of 
the day. 

We had i;wo large divisions. The Moravian order 
was dressed in blue and white; the other in red and 
white. Each banner was borne by a gentleman and 
lady dressed in white, except the bearers of the 
black banner were dfessed in full black. They 
formed in procession at the church, headed by mar- 
tial music, and two marshals and other officers of 
the day. The distance from the church to the 
grove was nearly a mile, but the day was fine. The 
distance was almost covered with a temperance 
army. Two of the deacons of the Presbyterian 
church were quite opposed to the movement because 
a woman was the starting point of it all, and they 
thought it quite out of place for a lady to make 
herself so public ; consequently I had to take up- 
the point and define woman's sphere for two-thirds 
of an hour. Our exercises were as follows : First,, 
■'The Declaration of our American Independence" 
was read by Mr. Cady. Then singing; then my 
address, after which Mr. Ives spoke for nearly two 
hours. Before the exercises were ended, a rush 
of people was coming by the hundred. *' Well," 
we thought, "can they be disturbers? It surely 
looks like it ; but Ave must stand our ground. Law- 
rence won't give up the ship ! No, never ! " 

When our opponents heard of our temperance 
movement, they put up bills inviting the public to 
attend a large celebration on the Fourth of July ; 
that there would be a sumptuous dinner served. A 



6o 

great time was anticipated, and all must come. This 
celebration was but two miles from us, and was 
intended to break up the temperance movement. 

But, to our happy surprise, the rush of people 
spoken of were coming to our meeting. The ladies 
of Moravia and surrounding neighboring villages 
gave a very fine lunch, after the services in the 
grove, to Avhich we were all invited. We of course 
accepted, and were served with all the luxuries the 
season and the country afforded. We then received 
orders to march back to the church for dismissal. 
On our way we halted before the first hotel and 
gave a temperance song, which was not well received, 
The landlord of the next hotel fell into our ranks, 
and opened a temperance house. We arrived at 
the church ; and, Avhile giving toasts, the two dea- 
cons came to me, giving me Godspeed in my ardu- 
ous work, hoping that I may live many years to 
labor in the cause of humanity. I called for an 
extra toast for the happy conversion of the two 
deacons to woman's rights. It was granted, the 
deacons joining in the chorus. We were now dis- 
missed, all having enjoyed a happy day. The bat- 
tle was ours. We had gained a splendid victory. 
Although our opponents worked hard to overthrow 
our temperance movement, they were defeated, and 
finally came into our ranks. When we live in the 
discharge of our known duties, we receive help from 
our divine Master. 

A letter came, requesting a lecture on " moral 
reform." The circumstance was a very sad affair. 



6i 

It occurred in a near-by village, and aroused the 
feelings of the whole community. The parties 
moved in the best of society. A doctor, who stood 
high in his profession and as a gentleman, the hus- 
band of a lady connected with one of the best 
families in town, and apparently a very happy 
couple. But the doctor became enamored with a 
very beautiful young girl, who at the time was a 
friend and domestic in a family near by. It was 
thought that both parties might be saved by taking 
proper measures. The appointment was made for 
the lecture to take place on Sunday, at two o'clock 
P. I\r. We had a fine day and more than a full 
house : the parties were both present ; the lady was 
placed in the front seat, and during the lecture, I 
noticed her weeping ; it affected me, and it was with 
difficulty that I could go through with my lecture, 
although I had my manuscript before me. She 
once had a mother who cared for her, and now she 
is cast upon a merciless world, envied by her sex for 
her beauty, ruined by a demon in human form. Oh, 
cannot some guardian angel protect and save her! 
But the poor girl is friendless and alone ; her sex 
deserted her and she fell, and left for parts unknown 
with her seducer, and the broken-hearted wife left 
to go to her paternal home. How many could be 
saved after taking the first step, if mercy and for. 
giveness were extended to them, and friendliness 
shown, instead of a cold frown and a haughty look. 
In such events how many accusers would be able to 
cast the first stone ; but such is life. 



62 

Now I am about to return to the place of my 
birth. A call for a temperance lecture to be given 
at the court-house. A very stormy night awaits me. 
I came a little late, but a full house is in readiness. 
I commenced speaking in my usual way. When 
about midway in my discourse, I was beginning to 
remonstrate against the evil habit of drinking, when 
a gentleman from the back part of the house started 
for the door. As quick as thought I said : '' There 
is sometimes a making for the door when the nail 
is hit in the right place." (An applause.) The man 
stood a moment and looked at me. I gave him a 
smile of Avelcome. '* Well, I guess I won't go out," 
he said and returned to his seat, accompanied with 
another applause. After the lecture, a deacon of 
the church of which I was a member arose and said 
that Miss L. had come to us like an angel of mercy, 
to revive us upon the subject of temperance, of 
which there is so much need. Let us appreciate her 
labors among us and 'sustain her sentiments, by 
promoting the cause. Schoharie is always ready to 
help a good cause. Some of the greatest temperance 
revivals have occurred here that I ever knew ; also, 
some of the greatest religious revivals have taken 
place in Schoharie. 

I love my old birthplace, every inch of it. No 
application for help in the promotion of the cause 
of religion, or for deeds of charity, or for whatever 
that is just and right but will find a hearty response 
in that old county town. It was there that I first 
saw the light, and there I shall find my last resting- 



63 

place. My thoughts go back to many occurrences 
of my young days. Shortly before the death of my 
parents I had on hand a large package of tracts 
which I purchased from a clergyman. The title of 
one was '' Sabbath Occupation," and another was 
" An Alarm to Distillers." I thought those tracts 
might help me in my temperance work. The dis- 
tillery over on the other street always worked part 
of the Sabbath. Both tracts are against that, and I 
must manage some way to have them fall into their 
hands. At twelve o'clock on Saturday night they 
stop work and commence again Sunday noon. 
" Now," I thought, " I'll wait until one o'clock and 
start out with my tracts." I said to my brother, 
*' I want you to go with me over the field on the 
other street." " Kitt, what are you going there 
for ? " " Ask no questions, only go to the fence 
with me, that is all." I started with my hammer 
and tacks, left my escort behind, climbed over the 
fence, crossed the road and reached the door of the 
distillery. All was quiet within. Now, with ham- 
mer and tacks, I fastened both tracts to the door. 
I heard nothing about them for several days. Some 
time after, I called at the house of the distiller. 
His wife said: ''Oh, Kitt, did you hear about the 
tracts that were on our distillery door? There is 
one of them, the other is down at uncle's. I have 
just read it, and I have told our people that they 
ought not to work on Sunday, they need rest." 
"Yes," I said; "besides that, it is wicked to brew 
and make rum, especially on the Sabbath." "Yes," 



64 

she said, '' and the other tract speaks awful hard 
about that. I wish I had it, I would let you read it. 
When they get through with that, I'll let them take 
this, it is going the rounds, but my husband was awful 
mad when he found them on the door." " A good 
sign," I thought ; " they may have the desired 
effect." ''They can't think who could have done it. 
Some one asked Mr. W. and also Dr. V. if either of 
them had put them there ; both said no." " Well," 
I said, " when you get through with them, let me 
have them." "Oh, yes, you must read them, 
certainly." My mirthfulness almost gave me away. 
But I must not forget my heavenly Father, who was 
my helper. The establishment was soon after given 
up. I did not investigate the real cause. It may 
be that the tracts had something to do in the matter. 
I think, from circumstances, that was the starting 
point. At the day of judgment small as well as 
great matters will be adjusted. Our works will be 
tried as by fire. If right and good, the fire will 
purify and they will stand, but, if otherwise, they 
will perish. 

\t the age of twelve I went to one of my sisters 
for a visit. It was about twelve miles from home. 
While there a company of boys and girls were going 
berrying ; I was asked to go ; my niece and a girl 
friend joined the company and off we started, a 
happy company. We entered the woods and all 
were anxious to find the best places. We began to 
scatter, to see who would be the most successful to 
find and gather berries. My niece and Angle, my 



65 

friend, and myself, composed one company. We 
soon were out of sight and hearing of the others, in 
a large forest. We walked until we were so tired 
we could scarcely stand, and we began to fear that 
we were lost. Shortly we came to a nice spring of 
water. Oh, how glad we were ; now we will have our 
lunch. After this Angle said, " We are lost ; two 
girls from the same neighborhood were lost last 
year and remained in the woods until the second 
night before they were found." I said, '^ Let us 
pray the Lord to not leave us in this woods all 
night." There was weeping and praying for a 
time. We thought which way shall we go ? Angle 
says, " Let us go back." Rebecca said, *' Let us go 
somewhere." I sad, ^' The way back is so crooked 
and bad that we cannot find our way out ; let us 
try to find a path or road and keep on that ; it will 
lead us to some house. Now this spring must be 
visited by something that comes here to drink ; I 
never turn back." '' Yes," says Angle, " some wild 
beasts come here to drink and they will eat us up. 
You are ready to die, for you are a church member 
and can pray. Oh dear, what shall I do ? " " Give 
yourself to Jesus, no matter about joining the church 
now." So we pray again. '' Now," I said, " girls, 
stop crying and let us look around. If we can find 
tracks then we shall find our way out. Now we 
must go on ; we have been here more than an hour," 
and on we went again. We began to get weary, 
but no stopping now. But oh, here is a road, a real 
road ; now we shall get to some house sure. On, 
5 



66 

on we toiled to reach some habitation. The first we 
saw was a large field of grain and two log cabins, 
but not a living soul in them. It was a place where 
they made shingles for roofing buildings. 

We kept on the road ; it certainly would lead us 
to somewhere. After another long walk through a 
piece of woods we saw a house, and another a short 
distance beyond. We asked in the first house who 
lived in the next. They gave us the name, and I 
found it was a name that I was acquainted with. 
I called to ascertain where Mr. Howard lived. The 
gentleman said, " Come in, girls, you look tired ; 
have you walked far?" '^ Yes, sir; we got lost in 
the woods." " Come in," he said, " and get rested." 
*' Oh, no, it is getting late." He pointed out the 
house, and we hastened on our way rejoicing. We 
reached the house and were received joyfully. The 
lady was a sister of my brother's wife. She had us 
go to bed and rest, while she prepared refreshments 
for us, which were soon in readiness. After we had 
partaken of the refreshments, and became a little 
recruited, we thought of home. " Oh, can't you 
stay all night ? " " Oh, no, the whole neighborhood 
will be out with torchlights if we are not there 
before dark." The horses were soon in readiness, 
and we were on our way home in good speed. We 
must have wandered about sixteen miles. The sun 
is down, and we yet four miles from home. Said 
my friend, " My horses are great for speed, and 
don't mind this hilly road."- We soon came in sight 
of light, when, behold ! There they are at Squire 



67 

B.'s already to start for the woods. '' Oh, let us 
shout or we shall miss them." We gave three 
hearty cheers, and the company answered back with 
cheers. In a few minutes we were in the midst of 
shouts and torchlights and not a berry in our 
baskets. But we had a picnic, and such a greeting. 
I enjoyed it ; my regiment had reappeared, and 
as there was now no need of their services, soon 
dispersed. I really enjoyed the woods cam- 
paign. I was not troubled about myself, only I was 
sorry for my two companions. My friend Angle 
stayed with me that night, and we talked it over 
and over. I said, " Now, Angle, this had to be so, 
to bring you to Jesus. You know that there must 
be a beginning; now you come right out and unite 
with good people, then when death comes before 
you as it did in the woods you won't feel as you did 
then. Sunday evening Mr. Wait will preach, and 
you must come to hear him. I'll be there, and our 
friend Jane will be there, and the Lord will take 
care of us." We fell asleep. The Sabbath came, 
and the three friends were seated together. After 
the sermon they had a season of prayer. The 
minister asked me to pray. We three knelt 
together, and I prayed fervently for my two friends. 
The excitement was intense ; the one brother and 
two brothers-in-law came and carried us out, but all 
ended well. We did not give up. There was will- 
power with those three children ; they were hope- 
fully converted. Oh, I think of the meeting of the 
many friends on the other side, where there shall be no 



68 

sorrow, but joy and everlasting happiness. Who 
would not bear the trials of life, even privation and 
suffering, for the hope of seeing Jesus, our divine 
Master, in His glory, face to face? Oh, how much 
my Saviour has suffered for me, and I have done so 
little for Him. As the apostle said, " Show me thy 
faith without thy works and I will show you my 
faith by my works." I know that I have worked 
for the good of mankind with an eye to the glory of 
God, with my heart fully in the work. But oh, how 
much more I might have done; how many niches I 
might have filled for the good of souls and the glory 
of God, but alas, weak human nature fails too often. 
If all the church members in America or in the 
United States were living Christians, our land would 
be a blaze of glory ; there would be a heaven to go 
to heaven in. But we must lay the axe at the root 
of the tree, that is the rum-power, the starting 
point of all evil. It does not look well for a church 
member to uphold murder, robbery, gambling, 
houses of ill-fame, profanity, and all the prevailing 
evils of the day. Oh, no, you say, we abhor and 
denounce them ; but the temperance community 
are trying to break them up. Where are your 
votes? You vote for your party regardless of the 
law of God which forbids your course. You uphold 
all those things by your votes. Thousands of poor 
souls are lost, and oh, at the last judgment, where 
will you stand, when the book is opened and the 
Judge will say to you, " Depart from Me, ye 
workers of iniquity." You may be permitted to 



69 

say, we are members of the church; we gave money 
for missionaries, fed the poor, and so on. *' Depart 
from Me, ye hypocrites." You have made the poor 
with your right hand, by voting to sustain the rum- 
power. In consequence you have made wives 
homeless, and beggared children ; you have filled 
prisons with criminals, county-houses with paupers. 
Every department in life is visible with misery. 
You complain of sleepless nights. No wonder, if 
you think of the evils that you have encouraged by 
your votes. Your conscience accuses you, and if 
your conscience condemns you, beware of the 
hardening process that may speedily follow. Jus- 
tice is coming, and in an hour you think not, may 
overtake you. If the righteous scarcely be saved, 
where will you appear ? 

You cannot serve God and Mammon at the same 
time. Our brethren tell us that we are going too 
fast ; we are out of our sphere when we meddle 
with politics ; the time has not yet come for a pro- 
hibitory liquor law, and so on. That has been the 
old cry for fifty years, and now the cry has taken 
the highest keynote, and we hear the same objection 
to-day. The time has come, and we will not give 
up our armor until the Judge of all the earth calls 
us to our reward. Then let my epitaph be — '^ She 
worked for temperance." 

The Woman's Christian Temperance Union has 
done wonders, and is marching on to victory. It 
has two large political parties to face, and to con- 
tend with. But the one God is over all. He con- 



70 

trols all parties and unions, and the right will prevail 
in the end. 

Temperance should be a part of our religion. If 
we read our Bible, as professors of the church of 
Christ should do, we read that no drunkard can 
enter the kingdom of heaven. And who is it that 
makes drunkards ? The brewers and the venders. 
But who is it that gives the rumsellers the author- 
ity? Quite a number — the voters, the officers of 
the law, lawyers and judges, and all who uphold the 
rum traffic. I was asked if I thought that all those 
gentlemen were at the head of all the crimes com- 
mitted in our land ? I answered : ^' Yes ; the crimes 
are committed by authority. I once had an oppor- 
tunity to look over the records of crime in one of 
our State prisons, and found that nine-tenths of all 
the crimes were committed through the influence of 
rum, directly or indirectly." 
^ The year wj had the Maine law upon our statute 
• books made a great difference in the number of 
criminals, paupers and lunatics. If the present and 
the coming generation are not educated and thor- 
oughly trained in temperance principles, our nation 
will become a drunken nation. And upon whom 
does the great responsibility rest ? Upon parents 
and teachers who have the first care of training the 
youthful mind. Upon them rests the great respon- 
sibility of the future of America — its greatness or 
its downfall. If your sons are to become great 
statesmen, let them be taught to fear God and shun 
evil. Whatever their talent may be, whether for a 



n 

profession, a statesman or a tradesman, let them 
have their choice ; but let the starting point be 
right. There is danger on every side. Go through 
our cities, and wherever you find a public school 
building, you will find a saloon near it. Often the 
children go in to get candy. Beware ! there is a 
serpent there watching to coil around them his 
deadly folds. And are not your daughters in dan- 
ger of going there ? "Not at all," you say. But 
they are likely to become the wives of the boys who 
go there. If daughters were taught to shun those 
who frequent such places, there would be fewer 
divorces. But how many daughters are being 
trained in the same direction ? 

I was asked to give a temperance lecture in a 
rural neighborhood. There was no church nearby, 
but a fine school-house on the hill, also a deserted 
hotel. I chose the latter, and the bar for my plat- 
form, which some of the ladies trimmed with ever- 
greens. This was indeed the place for a temperance 
lecture. Oh, how many lost souls have gone from 
this bar to their final account — the vender with 
his customers. After the lecture a young man said 
to me, '' I would like to have a debate with you 
upon the subject of temperance; I can prove from 
the Bible that it is right to drink intoxicants." 
" Very well," I said ; " do you wish to have seconds, 
and at what place will you have the debate ? " '' Oh, 
at the school-house on the Sabbath, at two o'clock, 
P. M." ''All right; you give general notice." This, 
young man was a law student, not yet admitted to 



72 

the bar. Well, the day came ; I found the school- 
house packed, like sardines, and as many more out- 
side. My friend refused to open the debate. I 
then arose and commenced the text my oppo. 
nent had chosen : " Take a little wine for the 
stomach's sake and thy oft infirmities." I halted for 
my friend to reply, but the committee failed to get 
a reply from him, and then I was called upon to 
give a temperance lecture, which I did. I had a 
good subject for a beginning, and spoke an hour 
and fifteen minutes. Thus the expected debate 
ended. Soon after this, I was called to give a 
second lecture at Perryville, at two o'clock on a 
Sabbath afternoon, and one at Canastota in the 
evening. To do this I had to walk over two miles 
to Clockville to attend church, where I met friends 
to take me to Perryville, a distance of five miles, 
and bring me back to Clockville to give another 
lecture at five o'clock, providing they would take 
me back to Canastota for my lecture there at eight 
o'clock in the evening. This was doing a good 
day's work — attended morning service, gave a lec- 
ture at two o'clock, and one at five o'clock, and 
another at eight o'clock, and traveled fourteen miles. 
When I trace the past I can see how the Lord sus- 
tained and watched over me. In all my labors I 
never failed to meet the best of Christian people. 
When I gave a previous lecture at Canastota, I stop- 
ped at the temperance hotel. Mr. Tobey, the pro- 
prietor, had a cousin preaching in the Reformed 
church. He called at Mr. Tobey's and said, " I 



73 

have come to go and hear the lady lecture this 
evening, for I have never heard a lady lecture. I 
have just returned from a temperance convention, 
and feel like going to a temperance meeting." 

We halted at the door, and I said, " Mr, C. will 
you take a seat with me in the pulpit, and open the 
meeting with prayer?'' ''.Certainly," he said; ''I 
am not accustomed to wait upon a lady speaker, but 
I think I can do so." Mr. and Mrs. T. accom- 
panied us at the same time. They, too, thought it 
rather a new movement for a lady to ask a clergy- 
man to take a seat in the desk. But we are living 
in an age of improvement. The ladies are taking a 
step in advance of the times. I hope the day is 
not far distant when it will not be thought out of 
place for a woman to go to the polls and vote, irre- 
spective of party affiliations. We are on the 
march. Rum must yield. God and humanity are 
for us ; but if we have any selfish motive in view, 
we shall not prevail. If we work for the good of 
the rising generation, and for the glory of God, who 
dare say aught against us? Our works will all be 
tested at the great day of accounts. There are but 
two ways marked out for us to walk in — the right 
and the wrong; audit is for us to choose which 
path we will take ; and if at the end of the race we 
get poor pay, the fault is our own. A child is pun- 
ished for disobedience. God's laws demand obe- 
dience. If we break His laws we must suffer 
consequences. Rum and slavery are the prevailing 
evils of the present day, the latter apparently at a 



74 

standstill ; the Maine law dead, but not buried. A 
higher power must permit the galvanic battery to 
resuscitate both reforms. The one is near at hand, 
the other more remote. Slavery is confined to a sec- 
tion of the United States, but intemperance spreads 
over the whole, and indeed over the whole world. 
The curse is widespread. It takes all classes — the 
old, and young and middle aged. It goes into 
every department in life. Ministers have fallen, 
lawyers, doctors and tradesmen. Thousands are 
dying yearly from the effects of spurious intoxi- 
cants. It kills quickly. Sudden deaths are too 
frequent to doubt this. It is one kind of suicide, 
and yet our laws and lawmakers refuse to grant us 
power to put a stop to this curse. Why, I ask? 
We can guess the answer. By this craft we have 
our wealth. There is a wheel within a wheel. 
The saloon makes drunkards. The insane man, 
under the rum'influence, commits crime ; the lawyer 
gets his fee. Thus it is that by this craft we get 
our wealth. 

About this time I changed, in part, my occupa- 
tion, for one that gave me more out-of-door exer- 
cise. I took a book agency. In this I could do 
much good and not dispense with my temperance 
work altogether. In selecting books I was careful 
to take those of a moral and religious character. 
This work gave me healthy exercise and an oppor- 
tunity to do good to those that I could not other- 
wise reach. My health and spirits were never bet- 
ter than then. I met with little opposition and that 



75 

from those who thought that I was out of my 
sphere. One of my books, " Under God," was the 
means of converting a Spiritualist to Christ, and he 
became an exhorter in the Methodist Episcopal 
church. He was from an excellent Christian family, 
a professional gentleman, and lived and died in the 
work of his divine Master. How willing the Lord 
is to bless our weak efforts when we go to Him in 
prayer. How He permits our guardian angel to 
hover around us in all our walks in life, when we 
work for the good of humanity and the glory of 
God. There are many things that we should guard 
against in our Christian life. One is spiritual pride. 
I attended a prayer meeting at the house of my 
Methodist brother. A clergyman was present ; also 
a very wicked man. The minister asked me to 
pray, which I did, and it seemed that the very 
heavens were opened to me. I was inspired with 
a heavenly influence. I prayed fervently for this, 
man. Considerable was said about my prayers, so 
that I began to think that I excelled the others, and 
it gave me a feeling of superiority, and I began to 
think my Christian friends were not of my standing. 
I began to feel indifferent, rather cold, but I always 
read my Bible. In it I found that he that exalteth 
himself shall be abased. Oh, where am I ? Surely 
I am wrong. I do not enjoy myself as I once did. 
I know where to go for aid. The closet there is 
my bower . of prayer. How Satan watches our 
weak points to lead us from the right path. I 
was not above being tempted. I must follow the 



7(> 

footsteps of my divine Master as far as my weak 
nature can. 

About this time I went to pay a visit to the place 
•of my birth — Schoharie. There I met many old 
friends and many hearty greetings, as I always do 
on these occasional visits. One family that I visited 
lived four miles out of the village. Here the trus- 
tees wanted me to teach their school, if only for a 
short time, as the teacher that had been engaged 
for the school could not get a certificate, and a 
qualified teacher must be employed or they could 
not draw their public money for the coming year. 
So I went back to my old employment for a short 
time ; had a pleasant time, met old friends that I 
had not seen for a number of years. This was the 
fall for the presidential election, and a warm time 
was anticipated. Three candidates were in the race, 
Mr. Lincoln, Mr. Douglas and Mr. Breckenridge. 
Previous to the election, the Teachers' Institute 
met at the court-house. Professor Holmes pre- 
sided. A large number of teachers attended and it 
was a very enjoyable occasion. Soon after this the 
election battery opened, and the greatest excite- 
ment prevailed. Each party was sure of winning. 
After my school closed, I had quite a good time in 
attending political speeches, which were very enter- 
taining. Mr. Lincoln was elected. A great torch- 
light procession in rail-fence form marched from the 
stone fort of historic fame to the village. Schoharie 
tdoes work up right when she undertakes. Both 
parties had very large gatherings. Mr. Douglas 



77 

was finely represented by his party. But no one 
thought what the year would bring to our doors*. 
How little we know of the future. It is well that 
we do not. The time was short from November to 
April, at which time the commotion commenced in 
Congress by the withdrawing of Southern members. 
It was well understood what this meant. As soon 
as it was reported that Sumter was taken, the ladies 
began forming societies for the work of preparing 
lint and bandages, knitting socks, etc., for the 
wounded soldiers. The next thing the nurses must 
be getting ready to go to the seat of war. 0£ 
course Miss Lawrence must go, for she had nothing 
to hinder. She will know how to manage. She 
will go to New York at once, and take lessons ia 
the art of taking care of the wounded. I have, 
almost always felt that I was public property, and 
now I think I ought to be. I am well adapted ta 
taking care of the sick, but for the wounded I must 
have more knowledge and experience. 



CHAPTER VII. 

' Evil oft follows our footsteps, 
Do the best that we may try," 

Sometimes, in trying to help others, our only 
reward is trouble for ourselves. We cannot always 
receive justice in this life. No, we must not look 
for it. Too frequently we receive a curse instead ot 



78 

a blessing from the very persons whom we endeavor 
to help. 

I was at one time solicited to get up a petition 
for the pardon of a young man in Auburn prison. 
He had been convicted of arson in the second degree. 
After the young man — who was a physician — had 
been some tim.e in prison circumstances arose which 
led to the belief that the fire was set by accident 
and without intent. 

After my petition was ready for signatures, I 
started out. I first called upon the judge who 
sentenced him. He signed his name with the 
remark, *' He should never have gone there." Next 
I got the names of the grand jury, then of the law- 
yers, ministers, doctors and citizens. After a long 
struggle he was released, and left for parts unknown, 
thinking, no doubt, that prison birds could succeed 
best among strangers. 

Some time after this I was instructing a class in 
painting, when a lady, a member of my class, said 
to me one day, " Miss Lawrence, I have something 
to tell you after class." The something was this, 
that somebody — not one of my well-wishing friends 
probably — had started the report that I had flown 
away with the prison bird — the young doctor. 

"Well," said I, "as I have been here at home and 
■among acquaintances all the time, there has been no 
chance for me to do much flying." 

The slanderer was some craven wretch whom I 
suppose I had in some way offended, and who only 
has courage to attack women in some such way. I 



79 

have no fear of its effects. The slanderer has one 
exalted quality. He is always reaching up to pull 
somebody down. They aim at those whom they 
feel are above them. They seldom attack their own 
equals. If the slanderer was weighed in the balance, 
how few scandals would ever get a second hearing. 



CHAPTER VHI. 

" The flag of our country! we wave it on high, 
And swear for her to live or with her to die," 

I enlisted as army nurse in 1861 and entered the 
City Hospital in New York to receive military instruc- 
tion, such as bandaging and caring for the wounded ; 
as I had already been schooled to take charge of 
other diseases, I was not long in waiting after I passed 
in the hospital the required course. A call came 
from Washington for more nurses. I was one of 
the number to go. Not a moment was lost. My 
trunk had already been packed with all necessary 
clothing. I arrived in Washington at four P. M., 
put up at a private boarding-house, waiting for Miss 
Dix's command for business. The next morning 
when I looked at myself in the mirror I was fear- 
fully frightened, my face being covered with red 
spots. I rang the bell for the landlady, who came 
to my aid. ''Why!" I said to her, ''behold my 
face, I have no symptoms of the small-pox for I am 
perfectly well, but what does this mean ? " With a 



8o 

smile she answered, *' Don't be frightened, they are 
only the bites of mosquitoes. I forgot to pull 
down the net last evening." " Well, is that all? ] 
would about as soon meet the bullet, for that would 
come in my waking hours, but such an attack is 
mean; there is no heroism in it." 

My first initiation into military work commenced 
the day following my mosquito fright. Miss D. 
takes me on a visit to several hospitals ; one of 
these had Catholic nurses. Sisters of Charity, con- 
sidered the best of nurses. After my return to my 
boarding-house. Miss D. gave me a cup of jelly to 
carry to the hospital for a sick soldier, and gave me 
orders not to speak to those Catholic nurses. I 
thought of this remark on my way to the hospital. 
"And is this a military order? Am I to lay aside 
the common courtesy of life because I am to care 
for the sick and dying? I don't see it. Our sol- 
diers are among the best of the land and so are some 
of the nurses. That there are some immoral per- 
sons among both parties there is no doubt, but to 
reject persons because they differ from us in their 
opinion on the subject of religion is not Christlike." 

I met those sisters ; we bowed and spoke pleas- 
antly to each other. *' Well," I said to myself, " I 
wonder if I have disobeyed military orders. Miss 
D. is head nurse and is to assign places for the 
nurses, but she cannot hold office nor vote, therefore, 
I do not think that I have done wrong, or am guilty 
of violating military duty." On r.\y return from 
the hospital my lady led me into a room filled with 



8i 

bedding and underwear, every garment to be put 
into a pile of the kind. ''Well," thought I, ''this 
is queer nursing ; my patients are not sick or 
wounded, and too quiet altogether; I shall become 
a patient myself at this rate." 

But the next day I was requested to get ready 
for Fortress Monroe. I left Washington for Balti- 
more with a young German girl about sixteen years 
old, just over from the Fatherland. I could with 
difficulty understand her English. Miss D. gave 
her in my care to make a nurse of her. We took 
the steamer at six P. M. down the Chesapeake bay, 
arriving at Fortress Monroe the next morning at 
six o'clock; we were taken to the hospital, a large 
building, formerly a boarding-house, containing over 
two hundred rooms. A room was assigned to me 
on the ground floor, both dark and damp. The con- 
sequence was I took a bad cold. There were healthy 
rooms not occupied and I must have one. The two 
German women refused to give me a room. I 
asked Dr. Smith to look at my room. I thought I 
took my cold there. Dr. Smith condemned the 
room altogether as unfit and unhealthy, and gave me 
a pleasant, healthy room. I had charge of ten 
rooms. The upright front of the building, a court 
in the center with trees and flowers and a fountain, 
and the surrounding waters of the James river and 
Chesapeake bay, made it a desirable place for the 
sick and wounded. I had two darkey boys to keep 
the floors clean, and to do other work or chores. 
One boy named Billy, who looked to be about 
6 



82 

seventeen years old, said to me one day, " Misses, 
you tink I is married ? " " Why no, William ; you 
are nothing but a boy." '' But I is married to Anna, 
right-smart yallow gal ; you like for to see her, 
sure." ''Yes, Billy; bring her to my room this 
evening." At six o'clock in came Billy with his 
" yallow gal," beautiful indeed, large hazel eyes, 
long heavy eyelashes, features very fine, a modest 
little beauty — and Billy, a real African — what a 
contrast. I must keep up a conversation. " How 
long have you been married, Billy ? " "I reckon 
one year in green corn time." '' What minister 
married you ? " " O, Massa married us." " Well, 
how, Billy ? " " He says, ' Billy do you love Anna ? ' 
' Yes, Massa,' and ' Anna, do you love Billy?' ' Yes, 
sir, Massa.' That is all." '' Well, Billy, you are not 
married. Your wife can leave you at any time. 
You must be married by a minister; that is, you 
must be married Yankee fashion." 

The next call was from Colonel Johnson and wife, 
whose business it was to whitewash the rooms of 
the hospital. They were a fine, portly-looking pair, 
with European features, almost white. They, like 
Billy and his v/ife, were married by their master, 
and expressed a wish to be married like the 
Yankees. 

The next day the colonel invited me to the quar- 
ters to talk to his people ; that they would like to 
live right now, as they had an opportunity to do so. 
It was Sabbath morning. I finished my hospital 
duties, and started for the quarters in company with 



83 

the colonel and his wife. I was surprised to find so 
large a gathering, over one thousand of those poor, 
homeless creatures anxiously waiting for something 
to do. I spoke upon the subject of marriage, refer- 
red to the Bible, and now that they were no longer 
chattels, but responsible people, the Lord required 
them as such to live as Christians. I took the names 
of sixty couples and gave them to the chaplains 
at Fortress Monroe, who performed for them the 
marriage ceremony. 

My stay at this place was unexpectedly short. I 
was unable to learn what the duties of those two 
German women Avere. They were never in the sick 
wards. They occupied a fine furnished room in the 
front of the building, and also had good table 
board. That is all I could learn of them. They 
were not very friendly toward me, owing to the 
change from darkness to light. My room was 
healthy. My bed, chair and trunk were my fur- 
niture. I only wished that every poor, sick soldier 
could be as well cared for. My aim and duty was 
to care for the sick and wounded, which occupied 
my time from morning until dark. I under- 
stood my business, and was faithful in discharg- 
ing it. I had a young man from Brooklyn, N. Y., 
who was taken with hemorrhage of the lungs, who 
needed close watching and constant care. I went 
to his room to bid him good-by, saying that Miss 
Dix came to take me to Baltimore, " I hope you 
will get well soon." '' Oh, no," he said ; " you must 
not leave me now. There is no one here to care for 



84 

me. Stay, if only a week." The doctor entreated 
to have me stay, but the old lady was not to be 
moved. Go I mu.t. Well, this is worse than the 
mosquito fight. What am I to understand by this ? 
She heeds not the doctor's authority, and yet she 
wears no military badge. Yet she is to supply the 
hospitals with nurses, and here the nurse is so much 
needed, and those ten wards must be left without 
an experienced nurse. But the doctors are faithful, 
and do all in their power for our soldiers. In com- 
pany with Dr. Smith we started for the boat which 
was to convey us to Baltimore. A regiment of 
colored people followed us to the boat. 

I was very sorry to leave Fortress Monroe. I 
knew my duty called me there and I was doing a 
good work ; I was treated respectfully by all but 
the two German women. I was friendly toward 
them, but they rejected my friendship. I left off 
trying. I could not stoop to inferiority and left 
them to their own devices, but I felt a spirit of 
rebellion when I left. Another such move and I 
surrender and go on my own responsibility. When 
we reached Baltimore there were more nurses than 
wards in the National Hotel Hospital and I was 
left to work my own way for a short time. A fam- 
ily of friends with whom I became acquainted 
befriended me. They were in need of a nurse for 
a month or more. I found one among the ward 
nurses who answered the call, and I took her ward 
until her return. On her return I gave back her 
ward. Soon after this Madam Dix came to Balti- 



85 

more. We met and I gave her my resignation, 
saying to her pleasantly that I had always been very 
fortunate on Independence Day, owing to my inde- 
pendent spirit, and now I'll try it in this case. 

''But, Miss L., you can do no such thing, you are 
altogether in my charge." '' Please, Miss D., let me 
see your credential." '' That is not necessary, I 
have power to retain you or discharge you." '^ But, 
Miss D., I have already resigned. You came to 
Fortress Monroe and took me away from where I 
was doing a good work, and where the sick needed 
me, but you heeded no entreaty from doctors nor 
patients. I came with you to Baltimore. You left 
me without a ward or even a place to stay. You 
had the best of recommendations for me from dis- 
tinguished doctors and clergymen and why you 
should treat me on such inconsiderate terms I can- 
not conceive. All I ask is to serve my country in 
the capacity of a nurse. You gave me no reason 
for taking me from Fortress Monroe and placing 
me where I was almost useless only to be perse- 
cuted, and now, Miss D., you must relinquish the 
idea of retaining me as one of your nurses. God 
bless you, good by." 

Now for Washington ; Lawrence must not give 
up the ship, only with her dying breath, like her 
distinguished ancestor, the old commodore. I was 
not long in waiting for a position. Surgeon-General 
Findley, a friend of a Presbyterian clergyman, 
received a letter stating that Miss L. was in Washing- 
ton, would he have the kindness to find her and pro- 



86 

cure a seat in a Presbyterian church for her. I applied 
to Surgeon-General Findley at once for a position, 
which was. granted, as directress of the Kalarama 
Hospital. This Avas indeed a beautiful locality, but 
the hospital was an eruptive hospital, with such 
cases as small-pox, measles, and other contagious 
diseases. My duties were quite numerous but cheer- 
ful. My first work in the morning was to go through 
the wards and see what was wanting, and have them 
kept tidy ; also to see that the medicines were prop- 
erly given, the same being done in the evening. I 
had to be cautious in changing my apparel when 
going into the small-pox wards. Many of the nurses 
were afraid of contagious diseases. I Avas informed 
that they were not obliged to remain more than two 
months ; then others wQre to take their places. I 
did not approve of this plan for various reasons ; 
first, there was danger of carrying the disease to 
other hospitals ; next, they knew how to take care 
of their patients, where a change might not be quite 
so favorable. But I made no objection to the 
present program. The rules were strictly obeyed as 
far as possible in this hospital. The head doctor 
came once each day. The house doctor was a pious 
young man who officiated as chaplain, for there was 
no religious service in the hospital, only as we read 
the Scriptures and had prayers for the sick and 
dying. There was, doubtless, immoral conduct in 
this hospital, which manifested itself in strong 
terms. A court-martial was called and two of Miss 
D.'s nurses were discharged, and a young ofHcer was 



87 

sent to his regiment. Miss D. was highly offended 
by the removal of her nurses and requested the 
surgeon-general to remove me, stating that she had 
control of all the nurses. The reply was that he 
had a recommendation of Miss L. from doctors and 
clergy from her native city as a competent nurse 
and a lady. And he also had a recommendation 
from other responsible sources of Miss L., and that 
she was now under his charge and directress of the 
Kalarama Hospital. 

Miss D. had those two nurses placed in another 
hospital, from which they were discharged after the 
first night. Thus ended the first battle of the 
Kalarama. This beautiful elevation was the former 
home of Joel Barlow. At the entrance was a cot- 
tage called the Lodge, where the gate-keeper had 
charge, and also where the laundry work for the 
hospital was done. This place was surrounded with 
the beauties of nature. The mansion was a fine, 
large building, with large, commodious rooms, with 
marble mantels, and somewhat resembling a Scrip- 
ture text ; not full of dead men's bones, but full of 
fearful contagious diseases. 

We had few officers in the hospital — the head 
doctor, the house doctor, steward and directress. 
The steward was an Englishman, and understood 
his business when sober. He had formerly been 
discharged for intoxication, but was taken back on 
his word that he would relinquish the habit and 
attend to his business. Knowing my temperance 
principles, he at once manifested a strong antipathy 



toward me, although I always treated him courte- 
ously as a superior officer. My room was directly 
at the head of the stairs, on the second floor. One 
evening I came partly down the stairs, and noticing 
a number of the soldier boys standing around the 
hall stove, I asked them if they would please bring 
me a pail of water. Several answered at once, 
" Yes, yes." Before they reached the pail the 
steward came out into the hall and told the boys 
not to go. I said, " Steward, you are out of order; 
this is my business, altogether." He gave me an 
angry look, and said, " I'll shoot you." " You will ? 
See here, Johnny, you know that your ancestors 
were unmercifully whipped by the Yankees. I will 
have some of the same medicine administered to 
you." With an angry look he again said, 'Til shoot 
you." As he said this, he turned and went back 
into the dispensary, as I thought, to get a revolver 
to shoot me. I stood waiting long enough to be 
shot several times, and then went to my room. He 
knew very well that the boys in blue would take 
care of him. Besides, the very threatenings he made 
would have expelled him in disgrace. I had the 
pail of water, and no harm was done. As I went 
back to my room I said to myself, " Am I not get- 
ting a little rough ? Perhaps it is necessary in war 
times to be somewhat rough. My Bible says that a 
gentle spirit turns away wrath." 

The steward had a little stimulant. What a pity. 
He comes well recommended and yet he cannot^ 
leave off the habit of drinking to excess. He is not 



89 

exposed to any disease, and why does he not stap 
it at once? There should be a sober doctor or 
steward to deal out medicine. They may some- 
time make a sad mistake, and give the wrong thing. 
Yes, and so it came to pass, Some of the patients 
were troubled with sleeplessness after going through 
a course of fever. The doctor ordered quieting 
powders. One of the young men among the patients 
had been studying for the ministry ; he enlisted 
among the first, was: taken sick and was brought to 
this hospital, and vv^as considered convalescent, but 
like the others was troubled with sleeplessness. 
The steward prepared the powders, nine in number, 
and served them to the different patients. Before 
my bedtime the night nurse came to my room and 
summoned me in great haste, saying that young 
Wheeler was dying. ''What has he taken?" 
'' Nothing but the powder." " Run quick," I said, 
" to the other wards and bring every powder with 
you." The house doctor came. He said that 
Wheeler must die, as the powder he took was 
poison. The other eight powders were brought in 
and the men were saved. Had they taken the 
powders we would have had nine deaths instead of 
one ; but this one was too precious to lose through 
carelessness. I said, " Doctor, what are you going 
to do in this case? The sons of the mothers of our 
country are too precious to be laid aside in this 
manner." 

After the prescription was given by the doctor 
the directress' or nurse's duty was to pass them intc 



90 

the different wards according to direction ; but the 
steward's duty is to see that they are properly made 
up and given. 

One morning I went down into the dispensary for 
some medicine; the steward was getting ready to 
go out. He looked up as I came in, and in an 
unusual manner said to me, '' I hope I see you well 
this morning. You remind me so much of my 
mother. She was always pleasant and never spoke 
a cross word. Of course she is quite an old lady 
now." ''Thank you, Steward Abbot, for the com- 
pliment. I hope your mother has a son who never 
gives her heartaches." ''Yes," he said, "that is 
true, but human nature is human nature the world 
over." " Yes, but when you see a fire must you go 
and stick your hand into it, or run your head against 
a post because you cannot conquer your object? 
The only way is for you to trust in a merciful 
God." I made up my mind that something new 
was about to transpire, for such a great change 
means business, and sure enough the house doctor 
informed me that the steward had gone to answer 
for dealing out the wrong medicine, and that he 
would be court-martialed and perhaps be dis- 
charged. A great pity that he cannot get the mas- 
tery of his appetite. He has great medical talent, 
is thoroughly educated for a physician, has the 
capacity to fill any military or civil department, 
and yet he will retain his cup and disgrace himself. 

" Well," I said, " doctor, will he come back here ? " 
*' He may, if they can rely on his word and the court 



91 

should pardon him." Surely he came back, very 
gentlemanly and treated every one respectfully. 
Better times now I hope. I cannot conceive why 
we cannot be gentlemanly and ladylike in a mili- 
tary hospital as well as in civil life. Surely there 
is more cause for praying than for profanity, espe- 
cially among the sick and the dying. 

There are daily incidents in a military hospital 
life that one may think proper to disclose, and one 
thing is to keep your hands off of that which does 
not belong to you, of which I shall speak hereafter. 

A letter came from an adjutant-general officer 
from Albany, N. Y., stating that a box had been 
sent by the ladies at Albany which should have 
reached me by Christmas, certainly by New Year's, 
would I answer immediately, telling whether the box 
had ever come to hand ? I wrote that no box had 
reached me from Albany, but I would ascertain if 
there was a box at the government storehouse or 
any other place of deposit. After a long search I 
found the box at the depot among unclaimed 
articles nearly three months old. I wondered if it 
would pay to take the box after so long a time. 
Yes, I must, and see what is in it. '^ Yes, send it to 
the Kalarama Hospital." On it came. ''Now, 
boys, can you get that mammoth box up to my 
room?" "Yes, indeed we can." When the box 
was opened I commenced business. Bedding,; 
underwear, choice tea and sugar, dry beef, crackers, 
all in a good state, but the cakes, which were thrown 
overboard, four quarts of currant wine, which 



92 

can be used, and other articles too numerous to 
mention. A short time before this box came I 
received one from Guilderland Centre. I wrote 
to the ladies to send me some farmers' cheese. 
They did so, but it failed to reach me for some 
time. This box was sent to the sanitary rooms. 
A young man came to see if I was the lawful 
owner -of a box they had at the rooms. He 
said it should have attention, for he thought it 
contained old English cheese. I said, " Yes, send 
it here." It came, but it was strong enough to take 
a fort. It was a good appetizer and the boys were 
glad to get it. Also a large quantity of farmers' 
sausage that were too rich. These I gave to the 
boys and they knew how to dispose of them. The 
first night I came to the Kalamara, I lodged in the 
room with two of Miss D.'s nurses, who were well 
provided for with comfortable beds, while I had 
nothing but the bare cot, my only covering being 
my shawl, not even possessing a pillow. 

Well, I must not give up, but must become accus- 
tomed to hardships now that I am in it, and the 
room is healthy. I'll live through it and become 
accustomed to it after awhile. After a long time 
the bedding came from Albany, although I was pro- 
vided with a room and bed. After the first nis^ht 
there was no cause of complaint. 

Shut in from the outside world among contagious 
diseases, my health gave out. I went out Thanks- 
giving, last fall, and attended church once since I 
•came here, almost a year ago. I feel sick this morn- 



93 

ing. I wonder if I am going to have the small-pox. 
I cannot go the rounds this morning. The doctor 
comes in. ''What is to pay?" he said. "Well, I 
believe that I am going to have the small-pox at 
last." '' Well, your symptoms favor it. There will 
be a breaking out by to-morrow ; but should it 
prove to be the small-pox, you shall have the best 
of care and a room by yourself, for you are deserving 
of good care." The morning came, but no small- 
pox. I was happy once more, as I dreaded the dis~ 
ease above all others, but my health began to faiL 
Doctor T. sent three bottles to my room, marked 
" Brandy," '' Sherry " and "Bourbon," and gave a 
strict order to take at least one tablespoonful before 
going into the ward. Well, I thought it strange that 
stimulants should prove a preventative at this time^ 
now that I have been here almost a year and escaped 
so far. I think it folly to take stimulants, now that 
I have become acclimated, as it were, to the various, 
contagious diseases ; I think it quite unnecessary. 
Besides, I am acquainted with One who takes care 
of me, who is far better than this kind of medicine. 
Only a few days ago I witnessed the bad effect of 
alcohol on a house official. After the fever leaves a. 
patient it is necessary to give stimulants, also in most 
diseases. The three bottles and the currant wine 
will find ample use for my boys, who need it. 
What next ? Well, the house doctor and Doctor T. 
gave me a day off. " Oh, thank you, thank you, 
doctors ! Oh my, where shall I go first ! So many^ 
places I want to go to. But it will take quite 



94 

a while to get ready, for I must not carry the small- 
pox with me." I was not long in getting ready, 
and started on my day's visit. But when I came 
to the lodge gate the gate-keeper refused to let 
me pass. I said, '' You must let me out, for I 
am in a hurry." "Where is your pass?" he said. 
*' I have none ; I belong here." A female voice 
was heard at the door. " Let her out ; she 
belongs up at the house." He passed me. Thanks 
to the good Lord, He has got me out once more ! 
Now for a visit to some of the hospitals. My first 
call was at the Patent Office building. The first 
object that attracted my attention after I entered 
the hospital department was a young boy about 
seventeen years old, who at once interested me. I 
asked him how he was getting along. His reply 
was ''Not very well. I have a bad cough. I 
can never get well. The doctor thinks my case is a 
bad one." ''Poor boy," I thought; "you would 
like to get well, would you not ? " " Oh, yes, I 
would, but I see no chance. I am too far gone." 
"Shall I take your name?" "Yes; my name is 
Thomas Reese." " Well, Thomas, are you a Chris- 
tian ? " Oh, no, ma'am ; no one cares for my soul ; 
no one prays for me." " Perhaps your mother does ? '' 
" No, she is dead." " You notice that clock, 
Thomas ; every evening at eight o'clock I will 
pray for you. Ls there anything you would like 
to eat." "Yes; I think I would relish a piece of 
cake." 

I asked the doctor if he would allow me to bring 




Thomas Reese. 



95 

a plain cake into the ward. ^' Certainly," he said. 
I went out quickly and returned with a large sponge 
cake, gave my boy friend a good share and divided 
the rest among the other patients. Now, I must 
leave and go to Georgetown to call on a very dear 
friend of mine. She has charge of a large hospital 
and of the nurses and is a great worker. I found 
her and we had a good time. But she is overworked 
and overtaxed, which is the case with many of us 
nurses. We are in it and must bear up under it 
courageously. The end Avill come by and by. 
" Now, my friend, I must go back to my convent. 
Come and see me. Good bye." I hastened back 
to my inclosure. The lodge gate opened without 
questioning and I reached home very tired. I 
wonder how much longer I must stay here. This 
day's enjoyment makes me feel uneasy; my health 
is certainly giving out. If I die here they must 
bury me with the soldiers. Well, that is all right. 
Next day one of the cooks died, which made some 
change and a little extra work for me. Another 
takes her place. One goes and another fills the 
place. If ever true Christian American women were 
wanted, it is now, in our hospitals with the sick and 
dying. We have many such, but we want many 
more. The Lord send us the right kind. I wonder 
if the surgeon-general ever thinks how long I have 
been here. Shut in from the outside world, my 
health is failing. Then come those beautiful words : 
" Commit thy ways unto the Lord and He will direct 
thy path." Then comes a cheering letter from a 



96 

dear friend, the wife of the Rev. J. Burchard, D. D., 
an extract of which I will here give : 

" Surely you are now called to bear up the glories 
of the Lawrence name — a daughter of whom the 
old commodore need not be ashamed, if from the 
spirit-land he is now permitted to behold your con- 
flicts, your toils, your faith, your perseverance and 
your undaunted courage. 

' Mr. Burchard unites with me in bidding you 
Godspeed, also in many, many thanks to the noble 
Surgeon-General Findley, who stands so high in our 
estimation, for all the attention and kindness he has 
bestowed upon you, a stranger in a strange land. 
We are happy to assure him that his confidence 
has not been misplaced, ccrtaiiily not, if your heart 
is as deeply interested in your present mission, as 
when we witnessed your efforts and untiring labors 
in the great cause of the 'Maine Question' and 
temperance movements in this region of country." 

Well, I must have had the blues to-day. I will 
never retain such feelings again ; they are wicked. 
Wherever duty calls or places me, there will I go or 
stay. Our soldiers are sacrificing their lives to save 
our government, and I must take care of them 
when they are sick and wounded. If I die, let me 
be buried with them ; that is all right. I went the 
rounds as usual, found my duties more pleasant, 
and became an expert in the symptoms of small- 
pox and measles, which afterward gave me some 
amusing incidents in my next hospital work. 

One morning, as I started on my mission, the 



97 

house doctor Informed me that the steward was 
again in trouble, and in all probability would receive 
a discharge, if not something worse, if he was guilty 
of the charges that were brought against him, 
which proved to be the case. Intemperance was his 
besetting sin, which led to other crimes, and is the 
starting point of nine-tenths of all crimes commit- 
ted throughout the country. It is the reigning king 
of evil, and yet our laws treat him respectfully. 
Why not treat him like other criminals, and make 
an end of him ? Oh, because he is so highly con- 
nected, he is associated with the best, so-called, and 
is a w^elcome guest among the high-lived, and our 
laws are afraid of him. Our steward, with all his 
talents and manhood, could not withstand the 
temptation, and has fallen, poor fellow. 

One morning as I was singing, " Jerusalem, my 
happy home. Oh how I long for Thee. When will 
my sorrows have an end?" I hear a rap at the 
door. ''Come in." The surgeon-general enters. 
'' Good morning, Miss L., how are you ? " " Quite 
well, sir." '' I heard you singing ' When will my 
sorrows have an end ? ' " '' Yes, sir." '' Did you 
give Dr. B. any encouragement about coming to 
his hospital, the day you were there?" "No, sir. 
There was nothing said at all of the kind. All that 
passed between us that day was, I asked him if I 
could go out and buy a cake for a sick boy. He 
gave his consent and that is all I saw of the doctor." 
"That is all correct. The doctor has made a 
requisition for you to come to his hospital. It is 



98 

for you to say if you would like to go. You have 
been a good faithful directress and nurse and it is at 
your option whether to go or to stay." '' Well, I 
would like to go, at least for a time, surgeon-general; 
my health is giving out." " Well, whenever you are 
ready let me know and I will have y ou taken down. 
Good morning." 

" Thy joys when shall I see?" I felt sorry after 
all. But sure I am going out. After a while I 
may come back. In less than a week a pair of fine 
black horses with a fine carriage drove to the door. 
I took my exit. When I rode after those black 
horses I felt like going to my own funeral. I had 
just given good-by to all at the house and was feel- 
ing very sober. Perhaps I did wrong in leaving and 
I felt that I might regret it. But it is too late. I 
must not look back is the great command, and so 
on to my new place I go. 

I reached the Patent Office and ascended to the 
upper floor ; was received pleasantly and my ward 
assigned me, also the boy Thomas given to my 
care. His case was consumption, and with good 
medical care and nursing we hoped to see him well; 
but in this we were sadly disappointed. At first 
Ave had strong hopes of his recovery. He appeared 
to rally, and gave hopes of recovery, but it was of 
short duration. A merchant from Utica, N. Y., a 
Mr. B., came to see him, and spent the night with 
him. At this time Thomas had no occasion to say 
that no one cared for his soul. He was ready 
whenever the Master called. We had religious serv- 



99 

ice in this ward occasionally, and the last night 
Thomas was permitted to stay with us was a joyful- 
time for him. As was my practice, I called together 
a few friends to hold a season of prayer and sing> 
ing. This was attended with great interest, patients 
from other wards coming also, some of whom shared 
the benefit of pardoning grace. There was mani- 
fested the outpouring of the Spirit of God. I asked 
Thomas if he had a special hymn he wished to have 
sung. ''Yes," was the reply, " ' Nearer, my God, to 
Thee.' " Looking around, he saw a boy belonging 
to his regiment, and called him by name and asked 
him to meet him in heaven. His friend promised, 
and was much affected. The meeting closed, after 
bidding Thomas good-night. I then asked per- 
mission to watch with him in company with another 
lady nurse. Permission was granted. About twelve 
o'clock he said to me, '' Turn me over. My father 
will not be here to see me. Tell him it is all well 
with me." We turned him over, and before sun- 
rise his spirit departed. I wrote to his father to 
come at once if he wished to see his son. I asked 
to retain the body until ten o'clock. I then headed 
a subscription of my own getting up, went through 
the building and raised $31. I then went to Dr. 
Alexander's office and asked him the price for 
embalming. The answer was, " Fifty dollars." I 
said, " I have only $31 ; would you do it for that ? 
He is a soldier boy, doctor." ''Yes, I'll attend to 
him." He came and took the body. I returned to 
my hospital duties. Another bed was brought in, 



lOO 

and a patient to occupy it. Just then one of the 
lady nurses, accompanied by a gentleman, walked 
up to my ward. He proved to be the father of 
Tommy, '* My boy is gone," he said. Overcome 
with grief he could say no more for some time. 
** Yes, Mr. R.," I said, "but you can see him. He 
is at the embalmer's. When you get rested I'll 
have some one go with you." There were a few 
gentlemen in the building who were always ready 
to look after such, and this afflicted father was one 
who was well cared for. After a few days he 
returned home with his dead son. 

A fine appearing lady stranger came walking up 
to my ward one day, introducing herself as Mrs. 
W., a member's wife. She asked me if she could 
do any thing to help me. If so, it would be 
a great pleasure for her to do so. I said, '^ Yes. 
Would you like to write for the soldier boys ? " 
'' Oh, yes," she said. After this I had some leisure. 
She did the writing for the boys and gave them 
their medicine. This gave me an outing. After a 
few days a subject presented itself. The doctor 
had a very sick boy in the convalescent ward. He 
said, " I think that Patrick will die. There is 
nothing in the medical line that he can keep down. 
If you can do anything by nursing I wish you would 
see to him." " Oh, yes, doctor, if you give him up, 
I'll raise him," I said humorously. At it I went. 
Into the kitchen and made a nun soup and then 
started for my Paddy. There he lay with a woe 
begone look. "Hello! what now is to pay? Pat- 



lOI 

rick, my boy, and sure you are the one that Is to be 
the husband of one of the nicest Paddy girls in 
Albany. See here, I promised her a soldier hus- 
band and you are the one." I had a merry set 
around me and Patrick had taken the fourth spoon- 
ful of soup. All I dared give him now. " I'll 
leave you now, but will come again in two hours." 
As I was passing through the kitchen I met another 
forlorn looking boy who spoke to me. " Miss L., I 
guess you don't know me." I said, '' No." '' I am 
Eddy C. from Knowersville." '' Why, Eddy, how 
in this world came you here ? " I said. " I am a 
soldier," he said. '' What can I do for you, Eddy ? " 
" Give me something good to eat." This was quickly 
done. The best I could lay my hands on was given 
to Eddy. His father was a noted physician and I 
was intimately acquainted with his family. I lost 
no time in writing to them, and on Sunday morning 
my letter Avas answered with Eddy's father, who 
came after his sick boy. 

Well, I must look after my Paddy. I made a cup 
of tea, a bit of toast and a little dried beef. As I 
went into the ward several voices called out, " He 
is better." ''Well, Patrick, I brought you a cup of 
tea and something more to eat. I think you will 
get well if you are careful." The next morning the 
doctor went his rounds and returning he halted at 
my ward and said, " Patrick is going to get well." 
*' Yes, I know it. Now, whenever you have a patient 
you cannot cure, give him over to me." All this 
was said pleasantly. The doctor v/as always pleased 



I02 

when his patients were doing well, always gentle- 
manly and never neglected his patients. I had an 
enjoyable time here. The nurses were pleasant and 
always ready to help each other. There were no 
walls between us, as our wards were divided by the 
number of beds, thirty being assigned to each nurse. 
A young man from New York city was con- 
valescent and had permission to go out one day. 
As he passed my ward he said to me, " I am out 
to-day." ''Well, be careful about eating. You 
know how near your roommate came to dying from 
overeating." " Yes, I will." And off he went, a 
happy boy. In the afternoon he was brought back 
in a dying condition." He begged the doctor to be 
taken into my ward. '' Certainly, bring him in." 
In he came, bed and all. He reached out his hand 
to me. It was cold. I said, " My poor boy." 
" Oh, yes, yes ; had I only listened to you, mother. 
Oh, may I call you mother, now that I am 
dying?" ''Yes, all my boys have that privi- 
lege." He reached a beautiful glass mug to 
me, and said, " Always keep that to remember 
your boy." Before this the sun had gone down. It 
Was sunset also with this beautiful boy. Oh, how 
many precious boys have been laid away at Arling- 
ton, the beautiful city of the dead. I have often 
wished during the war, should I die during this 
time, let me be buried with my soldier boys. How 
many a poor mother and wife have their loved ones 
at the beautiful Arlington. May heaven claim them 
at last. We are not always permitted to receive an 



I03 

answer to prayer In this life, but the reunion In 
heaven will tell the story. Another boy is brought 
into my ward in a dying condition, altogether 
unconscious. Those who brought him in gave me 
his name and residence, both of which were familiar 
to me. I wrote as usual, but received no answer 
until after the boy was dead and buried. A beauti- 
ful letter came from Judge D. It was all right, the 
boy was already lying in his last resting-place. 

One subject of interest after another. One Sun- 
day morning a night nurse came into my ward in 
great haste, saying that Sands, our cook, wanted to 
see me, he had the small-pox and they Avere going 
to take him to the Kalarama Hospital. I went to 
his room, and found him in bed with a comfortable 
over his face and that on a very warm day. I 
uncovered his face. *' Why, Sands, you have the 
measles. Your face is covered with them." Just 
then in came the head doctor and another doctor, a 
visitor. I said, " Doctor, do you call this the small- 
pox?" '^ Certainly I do, nurse." Both agreed upon 
small-pox. In came my ward doctor, with another 
limb of the profession. All four agreed that it was 
a case of small-pox. '' I call it a case of measles," 
said I, " four doctors against one nurse. Now, if 
this proves to be a case of small-pox you may hang 
me sure." " Well," said Dr. B., " if it turns out to 
be measles, what then?" "Well, of course, you 
four gentlemen must abide by what is right, that is, 
you must be hung." All passed off pleasantly, but 
Sands must go to the Kalarama. I wrote a note to 



104 

the head nurse to have him in a room by himself for 
he had the measles. I was certain he would be 
back in a week or two if he took no cold. Law- 
rence will not give up the ship, neither will she be 
hung, sure of that, in this case. The symptoms of 
small-pox and measles are very similar, only differ- 
ent in the breaking out. One who has been 
familiar with both daily for sometime Avill see the 
difference very quick. In this case I was sure and 
was looking forward to the day when I should have 
a little amusement with my doctors. The limb of 
the profession was a Southern gentleman, who took 
no fancy to the Northern Yankee. He was taken 
quite sick, now was my time to kill through kind- 
ness. What can I do ? Well, I will get him a nice 
breakfast. I spread a nice napkin on a server with 
toast, and egg, jelly, and a cup of tea, and dry beef. 
All is ready. " Come, boy, you must carry this for 
me ; I may not gain admittance." We reached the 
door and I gave a rap. '' Come in." '' It is Miss 
L." " Come in," came on a low key. I opened the 
door. '^ Good morning, doctor, I hope to see you 
better. I thought an unexpected breakfast would 
relish." I braced him up and placed his breakfast 
on the table and left the boy with him until he fin- 
ished his breakfast. Thus the hatchet was buried. 
Well, what next ? Miss Dix is coming. 

I wonder what in this world she is after now. It 
can't be me I am sure, but up to my ward she came 
and asked me what she could do for me. I thanked 
her and said I had need of nothing at present, for 



105 

my friends supplied me. She complimented me on 
the neatness of my ward and left. She had but 
just left the hospital, when, on looking down the 
long hall, I saw a man coming up toward my ward. 
Well, that is one of the boys of the convalescent 
wards ; but no, it is Sands. He has recovered very 
quick if it is him. Surely it is him. " I am glad to 
see you. How do you do?" '' First rate." " Did you 
have the measles? " ''Yes, I did." "Go to your 
ward and we will have a good time to-morrow morn- 
ing when Dr. B. makes his visits." The next morning 
as usual he went through the convalescent ward 
first, and on his return he stopped at the head of 
my ward. I pretended not to have seen him at 
first. I looked up. " Oh, good morning, doctor, 
how are your patients ? " " Did you know that 
Sands is back?" "What, the one who had the 
small-pox? You certainly do not mean to say that, 
for it takes weeks and weeks to get over the small- 
pox." " No, but he had the measles." "What 
now ? " I said. " I suppose we will have to be 
hung." " Hang four doctors at once? No, we can- 
not spare them now. The President will grant a 
pardon in this case." " I was never more deceived 
than in this case. The symptoms are so much 
alike." 

" Our wards are thinning out. Patrick has gone 
to his regiment. I expect the building may be 
vacated before long. Then, doctor, I'll have my 
furlough. I have not had a rest since I commenced 
my hospital labor, and now there is a prospect of 



io6 

having one." Not many days passed before my 
anticipations and hopes were blasted. Mr. P., in 
company with a doctor, came along, who asked me 
if I would go to a small military hospital on Seventh 
street, a little out of the city, for a short time. It had 
been left in a bad condition, destitute of every com- 
fort and without nurse or doctor. That evening I 
ordered an ambulance, and in company with a lady 
and gentleman, I made a visit to the little military 
hospital on Seventh street ; but, oh, what a sight ! 
About thirty lying on the floor, on their blankets, 
so close together that there was not room to walk 
between them, and many were quite sick. 

The other wards were smaller, but in the same 
condition. Well, I think this place will be my 
furlough. Surely duty calls me here. This is Sat- 
urday evening. To-morrow I can do nothing but 
see the medical director. I went to the office, but 
he was absent. Next morning I called at an early 
hour and acquainted the director with the con- 
dition of the hospital. He at once gave me author- 
ity to draw thirty men or more if necessary and 
a requisition for cots, necessary bedding and 
whatever more was wanting. I hastened to the san- 
itary rooms, filled my ambulance full of necessary 
articles and hastened to my field of labor in good 
season. I had the men carried out of the large ward 
under the shade-trees, which was pleasing to them, it 
being a warm day. Some men were set to digging a 
drain around the building to carry off the stagnant 
water which stood in puddles. Others were carrying 



10/ 

water. Six men and myself were at work in the 
large ward, getting it ready to put up beds for our 
boys. A load had already come with one of the 
best of young doctors. Things began to look quite 
encouraging. At night our boys had the pleasure 
of being washed and dressed, with hospital under- 
wear on, and reposing on clean cots. 

A drain dug, the yard cleaned. At this rate my 
six days' work will be done right. I must here men- 
tion the kindness of a Mrs. McClellan and a Mrs. 
Joslin, who were living quite a distance from this 
place, yet came every day with provisions for the 
sick. While the New York cavalry were stationed 
here, another load of ladies drove up, asking what 
they could do to help. ^' Oh," I said, " bring a few 
dishes. We are destitute of those articles. I have 
made a cupboard and table of dry goods boxes.'* 
All came to hand after a short time. The next day 
we commenced another ward, much less in size and 
in number of patients. This ward underwent the 
same round of cleansing. The third day the dis- 
pensary and some of the smaller rooms were 
cleansed. This day we had a welcome shower,, 
which was cleansing indeed. It seemed like a new 
home, and all were pleased and happy but one 
young man who I think was homesick, poor boy. 
What can I do for him ? I just had a quilt from the 
sanitary rooms which had a letter pinned on it,, 
from a young lady, requesting a correspondence 
should it fall to the lot of a young soldier. Surely 
this will prove a panacea. I went into the ward 



io8 

with the quilt. " Well, my bOy, how are you to-day ? " 
*' Not very well. I think I must have the blues." 
'' I can give you a panacea. Will you take it and 
follow its directions?" ''Oh, yes, madam, but 
medicine don't do me much good." '' No," I said, 
^' but here is something that will be beneficial, a 
letter from a young lady on this quilt with a request 
to hold a correspondence with the gentleman who 
receives it. The address is here and is from Buf- 
falo." He called for paper and ink. No more blues, 
for his mind was occupied. 

The fourth day we had a call from the medical 
director. ''Why," he said, "this is all very nice 
and cleanly. Why, this cannot be the place that 
was represented to me as being very filthy." " Oh, 
yes, sir. It was all of that last Monday morning. 
She has had a small regiment to work since then and 
we have not got through yet. Please walk into the 
kitchen. We are not through with that." He was 
told all. " Well," he said, " she deserves a general- 
ship. Where is she?" "Gone to the city after 
some things for the kitchen." " Well, she must 
have better conveniences than these." 

My room was twelve feet long and four feet wide, 
with a small window at one end and a door opening 
into the hall, or rather something like space. Noth- 
ing disturbed me here, except at bedtime when a 
regiment of the least little mites of soldiers that were 
almost imperceptible were very troublesome. My 
generalship would last sometimes for an hour or 
more when, weary and sleepy, I would retire, 



109 

leaving the dead and wounded to take care of 
themselves. 

My kitchen was furnished at last, consisting of a 
store, a cupboard made of dry goods boxes, and a 
table made of the same material. 

It was a small military hospital and there was no 
telling how soon they will have to leave. Therefore, 
it was not necessary to furnish the building only to 
make it comfortable for the sick. The young 
doctor stayed with us only a few days, as he was 
called to go with his regiment. Another came, a 
Washington gentleman, so we were left with a good 
medical department. The two ladies, Mrs. McC. 
and Mrs. J., were faithful as long as the regiment 
remained. I was here only a month, and I am 
happy to say that we had not one death during the 
month, but we had some very sick men, who were 
conveyed to other hospitals when the cavalry left. 

A lady came to visit her sick son, a little drum- 
mer boy. My little room was well filled, but I was 
glad for her company. 

After the excitement of regulating and house- 
cleaning I was lonely. I will here state that while 
I was in hospital employment for one month, I 
never heard an oath nor an improper word. I was 
treated respectfully and every one was ready to do 
my bidding and it is wonderful how I held out with 
all my hard work, both mental and physical, and 
not one day of real rest or sickness; but plain 
living and temperate habits with a daily loving 
trust in my Redeemer helped me. I had long 



no 

before this graduated in the school of patience and 
knew very well how to adapt myself to circum- 
stances, and never engaged in any department in 
life without some previous knowledge of it. 

To be courteous is no disadvantage but frequently 
proves a blessing. '^ A soft answer turneth away 
wrath, but grievous words stir up anger." 

The cavalry is getting uneasy and wants to be on 
the move. If they are going to fight, they say, '' We 
want to be at it." Oh, I thought, how many of 
you will ever be permitted to see your homes! One 
battle may thin your ranks and leave a small num- 
ber to return, which proved to be the case with this 
unfortunate cavalry. 

The work of taking down the tents was com- 
menced. The sick were but few, and these were 
taken to the other hospitals, and soon all were on 
the march. And now I am sure of a furlough. I 
went to the house of a friend to get ready to go 
North. The third day, the lady's brother-in-law gave 
me a call, and wanted me to go to Armory Square 
to his hospital, and regulate the wards that were fin- 
ished. " Will you go ? " " Yes, I'll take my furlough 
there." A new field of duty. "Well, Mrs. S., I have 
had two days' furlough. I see now that I am gov- 
ernment property, so I'll go and see what there is 
for me to do." Off I went with a little disappoint- 
ment, but soon forgot it in the work before me. 
New cots and white spreads, with white fly-nets over 
the bed frames; and here comes a lot of unbleached 
pillow-cases. Surely those don't correspond with 



Ill 

the white spread and fly-net. So we had them 
bleached, and all corresponded. In a short time 
the barracks, eleven in number, were furnished, 
fifty beds in each barrack, a bath-room, and a room 
for the nurses. The rooms were nicely finished, 
with hot and cold water and gas light. It was 
indeed a fine hospital. I had Ward C appointed 
me ; the boys brought into this ward three small 
evergreen trees in half barrels, and placed them 
through the center of the ward. There were twenty- 
five beds on each side of the center aisle. The gas 
fixtures were trimmed with tissue paper, which gave 
a home-like appearance. All things were ready to 
receive patients, and we were not long ivcpt waiting. 
The second battle of Bull Run was in anticipation, 
and not many days elapsed before we heard the 
booming of cannon. Of course we did not 
expect to sleep the coming night ; that would be 
utterly impossible. The cooks had all they could 
do to prepare soup and eatables for our coming boys. 
At twelve o'clock, midnight, we were ordered to 
retire. We had time to say our prayers, and then 
retired ready equipped to answer the bugle call at 
any moment. Sleep departed, I could not close my 
eyes. Between one and two o'clock the bugle gave 
us a call. We were out at our work in a short time ; 
soldiers were gathering in and around the hospital. 
Every train brought some sick, but more wounded. 
The first thing was to give them something to eat, 
and then the men nurses would take them into the 
bath-room, and then to their cots. 



112 

This lasted over two days. The worst cases were 
retained, the less serious being sent to other hos- 
pitals. Our wards were filled. Mine was an ampu- 
tating ward. Some of the patients would live but 
a few hours, and then were carried to their last 
resting-place. Others would linger a day or more, 
and then pass away. Others would survive for 
days, and then leave us. 

A company of middle-aged gentlemen came from 
Boston, and offered their services free. Some came 
to this hospital. One fortunately came to my ward, 
and was a great help. 

On the afternoon of the second day a young man 
was brought into my ward. He was fatally 
wounded, and deathly sick. I quickly brought a 
wash-bowl. He quickly threw up a reptile about 
ten inches long. Mr. Cole held him up while I 
hurried away with it. On my return he asked me 
what it was. I said, '' Nothing unusual." I dared 
not tell him for fear it would make him worse. He 
was shot through one of his lungs. Poor boy, how 
I pitied him ! He was so young and handsome. 
He came from Erie, Pa., and was the son of a widow, 
and a Christian. Poor mother ! a new trial for you. 
He asked me if he could call me '^ mother." " Oh, 
yes ; I would like to have you do so." From that 
time on I was called "mother," and Mr. C. was 
" father " for all the boys in the ward. Poor young 
Stratton had one of us by his bedside all the time. 
This w^as late in the afternoon, and I began to 
feel the want of sleep, but could see no way to get 



113 

any. Miss Dix came to my ward, and said to me, 
''You must have rest. I'll send you two relief 
nurses for the night." '' Yes, send two elderly, 
trained nurses." She did so. At eleven o'clock I 
told them that if he or an^ one of the others 
wanted me, to call me at once. I slept soundly, and 
at one o'clock a rap at the door awakened me. I 
heard, ''The boy is just gone; he does not know 
any one ; you had better sleep." But I got up, and 
went to his bed and spoke softly, " My son, are you 
asleep ? " He opened his large, hazel eyes and said, 
" 0.h, mother, have you come ? " He took my hand 
and held it for some time, apparently sleeping quietly 
until sunrise. He then opened his eyes and said, 
" Jesus is coming, mother." He then entered upon 
his last sleep ; and thus passed away a Christian 
soldier boy. 

One of the nurses came to my ward saying, " Miss 
L., there is a wounded officer just brought into my 
ward. He says he knows you. Come and see 
him." " Well, Captain C, how do you do ? " "lam 
on my back, and I don't know where they will 
send me." " Well, I have a vacant bed, and you 
m.i3t have it." A stretcher was brought, and the 
captain was a patient of mine until his wife came to 
care for him. 

A German came in the evening of the sixth day. 
I said to him, " You had a hard time ; you must be 
glad that you have reached here after lying out so 
long." " Oh, yes," he said ; " it looks just like 
heaven here, so pretty and shiny." Poor soldier! 
8 



^114 

the change was so great. My duties are quite 
numerous. There were ten patients whose wounds 
I had to dress. The worst cases of the wounded 
the doctor would attend to. I also tied arteries and 
administered chloroform. 

Another soldier boy had his left arm amputated 
near his shoulder and was apparently doing well. 
He was always anxious to have me talk to him upon 
the subject of religion and gave evidence of a 
change. We thought his recovery was certain, but 
all of a sudden his shoulder began to assume a green- 
ish appearance. The doctor pronounced it gangrene. 
It spread rapidly over his system and poor George 
was rapidly approaching the end. For the first 
time I asked him if he was a church member. 
'' No," he said, but his parents Avere Catholics. 
*' Well, George, would you like to see Father 
Dominick?" ''Yes, I should." I had the priest 
sent for.. Father Dominick came and gave him the 
sacrament. In a few hours George left us for a 
better inheritance. 

Another patient, a Mr. Smith, expected to be able 
to join his family in a very short time. His right 
arm had been amputated. In the evening, before 
I retired, I called at his cot and asked him how he 
was getting along. " Oh, first rate," Avas his reply. 
" I expect to be with my family in a short time." 
At daybreak I heard an unusual walking in my 
ward. As soon as possible I was out in the ward. 
To my utter astonishment Mr. Smith lay dead. 
''How is this? Pray tell me." ''His arm com- 



115 

menced bleeding and we were not able to wake 
the doctor and so the poor man bled to death." 
''Why did you not call me? " In came the so-called 
ward doctor. " Well, there lays your victim ; 
Reed, .how is that?" "Well, I tried to wake 
up one of the other doctors but failed." "You 
should have known yourself what to do in such a 
case." And so many a one passed away through 
unskillful hands. More of this hereafter. The 
young doctor left early that morning and no one 
could tell where he had gone. Too many experi- 
mentalists who were incapable for positions so 
important were allowed to occupy places of this 
kind. Even among nurses some who had experi- 
ence and had acquired knowledge of the work were 
often set aside and their places filled with inexperi- 
enced and ignorant ones through power. I rejoice 
that the time has arrived that our American nurses 
are being trained for positions so Important. A 
skillful nurse is as important as a skillful phy- 
sician. Life has too often been sacrificed by both 
professions. 

Just now comes a call for me to go to Falls 
Church. Another battle has been fought, and hun- 
dreds of sick and wounded need care. A lady 
comes to take my place until my return. My 
ambulance is at the door waiting. On getting in I 
told the driver to take me to a grocery. I went to 
two of them, and filled my ambulance with all nec- 
essary articles of food and luxuries for the sick, not 
forgetting palm-leaf fans which were always neces- 



ii6 

sary, and on we hastened to Falls Church. Already 
our boys were being looked after by a multitude of 
good Samaritans. All was being done that could 
possibly be done for them. But we were too near 
dangerous ground. This was on Saturday, and 
before Monday our sick and wounded were safe in 
Washington. The pursuers were after them. 

My skill in making wine-whey could not be 
doubted, but it required pure milk for the purpose, 
and pure milk for the wounded. The government 
provided three cows, which were pastured near this 
hospital, expressly for hospital use. I frequently 
had some trouble about making wine-whey ; the 
milk was to blame, I am sure ; it required nice sweet 
milk. One morning I got into the wagon with the 
chore boy, to go on an errand up-town. "Why," I 
said, '' do you peddle milk?" seeing a milk can in 
the wagon. '' No," he said, " I take it to such a place." 
'' But," I said, " that belongs to the hospital. Our 
soldiers should have that." Sometime after this a 
lady nurse lingered in my ward for a number of 
days in succession. After awhile I had a note to 
call at headquarters. " Well, doctor, what does all 
this mean?" ''It means all this, did you make 
remarks about government milk?" "I certainly 
did." "That is enough." "Yes, and more than 
that ; there are jars of fruit in the officers' kitchen 
with sanitary marks upon them. This I have not 
mentioned outside. All that I have said was to the 
chore boy going up to the house, and I say now 
that our boys should have what belongs to them. I 



117 

am here to take care of them, and I'll stand for 
their rights if it costs my head. If you feel justi- 
fied in discharging me for honesty, all right. 
Lawrence wont givQ up the ship." 

My old Lawrence ship begins to rise to a warm 
temperature. " Good morning, doctor," after reach- 
ing my ward. I thought I may have a vacation 
shortly ; I need it, so let it come. But here a 
person tells me that all the nurses are here without 
pay. I said I was not aware of that, and what 
benefit would that be to the soldiers. 

I have spent most of my money for the boys, and 
I choose to do so, for then I know where it goes. 
Thirteen dollars is small pay, and I am honest 
enough to take care of my own. Well, matters 
went on as usual for a few days; nothing was said 
about gratuition. If there were, those who did, 
have found out long before this who was benefited 
by their sacrifice. I was aware that injustice was 
being done, and was fully determined to have no 
share in it, but was daily waiting for a dismissal. 
In this I was not mistaken. One morning my 
envelope came ; inclosed was a note that the serv- 
ices of Miss Lawrence would be no longer wanted 
at this hospital. I gathered up my dry goods and 
left, fully determined to have a rest of one month. 
I went to the house of Mrs. S., my old friend, and 
had a rest of a few weeks. I was glad of the change, 
which I so much needed. I should now have an 
opportunity to visit different hospitals. I was aware 
that another call would come, perhaps t do soon. 



ii8 

but rest I must, now at all events. I took the 
rounds in visiting hospitals. I called in company 
with an officer's wife to visit the old hospital jail, to 
see Belle Boyd, who was then a prisoner as a spy. 
This was on the Sabbath. We were not permitted 
to enter into their apartments as the prisoners were 
getting ready to march into the chapel for Sabbath 
service, but we were ordered to stand in the hallway 
where we could see them as they came down stairs. 
Miss Boyd and Mrs. Sprague at once recognized 
each other, bowed and smiled, well remembering 
when their former acquaintance commenced. Mrs. 
Sprague was taken prisoner at the first Bull Run 
battle, was very well treated, and there became 
acquainted with Miss Belle Boyd, and so the lady 
prisoners met under similar circumistances. This 
visit to the old Capitol jail was made while I was at 
the Armory Square hospital. 

A few visits were made to the old convalescent 
camp during my short vacation. We would take a 
conveyance, and carry sandwiches, cake and other 
eatables, for the convalescents, in large quantities. 
There would be a number of teams going daily for 
this purpose. 

One day, as we were going the rounds of the 
encampment, two gentlemen stepped up to me, 
shook hands and said, " We are glad to see you 
here. There is so much work of the kind that you 
are doing, that you must be stationed here for this 
work." The colonel was consulted, and my place 
fixed at the large brick house. Oh, my ! this is the 



119 

largest ward I ever had. BetAveen seventeen and 
twenty thousand convalescents, and some so very 
sick, others don't need care at all. I can soon find 
out who will need the most care. Back to the city 
I went with speed to get ready for my new field of 
Avork. Packed up my dry goods and other articles 
necessary for use. 

Off I started with my omnibus and driver. It 
was nine miles from Washington, and bad roads. 
I reached my new place of labor, consisting of a 
large room, with a cook stove, cot, table and two 
chairs". I brought a few dishes and cooking utensils 
with me. Well, I have nothing to cook. I want 
things for the sick, especially outside of the hos- 
pital sick. 

My ambulance was on hand. I went to Washing- 
ton early in the morning, called at the government 
storehouse, gave them my papers of introduction 
and of my business, and then selected all kinds of 
farinaceous food, such as cornstarch, arrowroot, 
farina and tapioca, a box of condensed milk, tub of 
butter, a barrel of dried apples, box of crackers, and 
other things too numerous to mention. I had 
one government wagonload, and my ambulance 
well filled. It was dark before reaching the 
encampment. 

Just after passing through Alexandria, I had to 
go through a pond where the water came up to the 
hubs of the wagon. I wish they had a railroad 
here, and the encampment was on a level. To have 
to go up that steep hill and have quicksands to 



I20 

encounter is not necessary, when there are better 
places to choose. Landed at last 1 Now for a 
beginning — no, not to-night. 

In the morning I commenced my work, for some 
of the boys looked like living ghosts, hardly able to 
walk. For some I made toast, for some arrow- 
root, and prepared condensed milk for others. I 
have to learn what kind of food to prepare for 
different patients. The wrong food may do great 
harm. 

I must also have a few orderlies to look up 
patients outside the hospital tents. I had a table 
made large enough to accommodate the patients 
who were able to come to it, and they were quite 
numerous. Most of them needed farinaceous food. 

My orderlies came in good time, ready to help. 
Some would carry apple sauce to those who needed 
something of the kind. Another would take a lit- 
tle toast or something of the kind. Poor boys, how 
much they need a good, comfortable hospital and 
the best of nursing. If I could, I would have you 
all better cared for. This is no place for the sick 
and convalescent in a stormy time. It is not fit for 
a well person. No wonder the drum beats the dead 
march. In a hard storm it is almost impossible for 
them to keep dry. I went out to carry something 
for a sick soldier and the rain was coming through 
the tent. I found his bed quite wet. I could do 
no more than send him a dry comforter. This was 
not the only case. There were many more in the 
same condition. My mind was constantly at work 



121 

to find out by what means I could bring about a 
better state of things. 

When they fall on the battle field, we know that 
is unavoidable, but after they have done all they 
could to save the country, and then let die, through 
neglect, is a state of things I cannot stand. Some- 
thing shall be done. I'll see the colonel. He 
appears to be a gentleman of refinement. I am 
sure he will do the right thing. Here it is almost 
winter and half of them will die before spring. 

One day the colonel called at my rooms. I said, 
'' Well, colonel, do you think of staying on this hill 
the coming winter?" ''Oh, yes, I shall have bar- 
racks built that will shelter us. I have a pile of 
boards on the ground for that purpose." " But, 
colonel," I said, " there is no water here and it is a 
terrible place to get to with provisions. You have 
to go a mile from the foot of the hill to reach the 
top, and it is terrible for heavy loads. You know I 
came up with three loads and the horses came very 
near giving out. They were over an hour coming 
to the house." After I had gone so far I noticed 
the colonel did not like what I said. But my mind 
was made up ; if there is any thing in my power to 
make a move, I shall do it. But I must get some 
one to help me, for our boys shall not stay here 
through the winter. 

Twice and three times a week I make a trip to 
Washington for things to make some of our boys 
comfortable, but a few loads are quickly used up 
among such a multitude and comparatively few are 



122 

reached. I lose a day every time I go to Washing- 
ton. My orderHes do well, but I lose the best part 
of the day. I'll change my time, I'll go at night 
and return in the morning. Mr. Kings invited me 
to make his house my home when I came to Wash- 
ington. My team was taken to the quarters. In 
the evening I would take my orders from Col. 
Ruker and send them to Capt. Knowls for the num- 
ber of teams I wished the next morning. In the 
morning immediately after breakfast I would go to 
the government storehouse, where I would meet my 
teams and have the wagons loaded, and my omni- 
bus well loaded and all ready to start at an early 
hour, and arrive at the encampment at twelve and 
sometimes one o'clock, and by two o'clock we would 
usually be through giving out food at the rooms, 
but none were ever turned away later. Some days 
we would wait upon sixty at the room, frequently 
more. After the duties of the room were dispensed 
with, my orderlies would take things to the sick 
outside of the hospital tents, and frequently I would 
go myself. 

One afternoon on my return I came up to the 
front door. An officer of the day stationed himself 
in a defiant manner. What now, I thought. I took 
a sharp look. " I think I know you, sir," I said. 
''Yes, and I know you." I shook hands with my 
old school teacher. Dr. J., from New York, I was 
more than glad to see an old familiar face and 
friend once more. I gave him an invitation to take 
his meals in my room, which ne did. One of my 



123 

orderlies, Deacon G., from Potsdam, and the doctor 
were soon acquainted. Both were Christian gentle- 
men, which made this place seem like home. The 
doctor's stay was short, however, but the deacon 
remained while the encampment lasted. 

I stepped out into the kitchen to borrow a tin 
pan from the cook who had charge of the doctor's 
table. As I was passing out, I noticed a man lying 
near a pile of boards. I called the attention of the 
guard, and asked him to go to him, and see if he 
was dead. He said, " I can't leave my beat, you 
must get one who is off of duty." I called another 
and we went to the apparently dead man, had him 
brought into my room, and gave him restoratives. 
The boys were hard at work with him when the 
doctor came in ; he thought that it was about 
over with him, but we gave him Jamaica ginger 
with a teaspoon. After a while he was restored. 
We then gave him a warm meal and flannels and 
sent him to the hospital tent. He fully recovered 
and frequently called at the room. A short time 
after this the colonel's wife sent a boy in a similar 
condition to my room, who had nearly the same 
treatment, and was taken to a regular hospital. Many 
of our men had a disease that required vegetable 
food. One of the officers asked me if I could pro- 
cure any. " Yes, if they have any on hand in the 
government storehouse, I can get it." Eating so 
much salt meat and pork is what brings it on. Now 
for Washington once more this week. After my 
day's work was done, my driver came up with my 



124 

■ambulance and two black ponies, for " Uncle Sam's" 
storehouse. I must state here that I was requested 
to take the oath of allegiance every time I crossed 
the long bridge, which I made known to him. He 
told me to keep one on hand, that would do, and 
for a while every load was searched before crossing 
the long bridge. This Avas military rule and was 
strictly obeyed, but was not closely observed in my 
case. After awhile I was allowed to cross the long 
bridge entirely unmolested, not knowing that a 
strict watch had been kept for quite a time of my 
doings, entirely unknown to me. Of this I was 
informed long afterward, and was happy to learn 
that so much confidence was placed in me. 

Now for my Washington trip. I asked Col. R. 
for a requisition for government teams, four in 
number, which was granted. They gave me sev- 
enty-five bushels of potatoes and twenty of onions, 
which made four loads. We were only allowed 
twenty-five bushels to a load, but they put a barrel 
of dried apples on one load and a barrel of pickles 
on another. Each load had a little extra. The 
last load in our train was managed by a boy driver. 
We were frequently troubled by lads who were 
watching for a ride between the long bridge and 
Alexandria, and who were not the most loyal. This 
day a company of four asked for a ride. I forbade 
them taking any one on the loads, but the four, 
not heeding the driver's remonstrance, got on his 
load. My driver informed me that they were on 
the last load. " Stop, then," I said, " and let me 



125 

off." " But," said the driver, " let me go." '' Oh, 
no, I want no fighting ; I'll do the work." I took 
the driver's long whip and back I went. I said 
pleasantly, ^' Boys, get off the load, we have as much 
as the horses can draw." But they obeyed not. 
With a commanding tone I said, " Will you compel 
me to shoot you ? I shall, unless you are off this 
moment." They were off, but the driver's whip was 
all the revolver I had. It answered every purpose. 
They were very angry and called me an old Yank, 
which was evidence on which side of Dixie's line 
they belonged. After reaching old camp, there 
was no time for distribution. The next day those 
who needed vegetables were looked up and supplied. 
The barrel of pickles was distributed from a tent. 
Among the rest came a patient with a hospital rig 
on, after a pickle. '' Well, my boy, how is this ; 
dare you eat one ? " " Oh, yes, when I heard the 
word pickle, I jumped off my bed; I thought I might 
as well die coming after it as to die for the want of 
it." ''Well, here is a large one, don't swallow it and 
make yourself worse. I'll come around and see 
you soon." This was the case with most of them; 
they needed a change, but a great many were not 
able to get any thing. If they had means they 
were too weak to walk. 

One day I was quite busy getting up dishes for 
my waiting boys. There were quite a number in 
the room. Two ladies from Georgetown, mother 
and daughter, came in, very tired — the latter a 
colonel's wife. They had been distributing eatables 



126 

to our soldiers and came in to rest. I made them 
as comfortable as circumstances would admit, 
excused myself until my boys were waited upon, 
and then I would see to them. After a short time 
I noticed the ladies were feeling quite badly. I 
wonder what I can do for them.. As soon as possi- 
ble I spoke to them and asked them if they would 
lie down and rest. Oh, no, we are all right ; don't 
mind us. Two o'clock and we are almost through. 
In came another new caller, just able to walk, a 
living skeleton. What is the matter and what can 
I do for you ? Poor boy, some toast, a cup of tea 
and a bit of wine will put a little life and strength 
into you. When he left he was feeling much bet- 
ter. After this he was a daily boarder. This was 
not a solitary case. The ladies were overcome by 
seeing so many ghostly looking human beings; and 
they said, " The work you are doing here makes us 
feel that we are doing nothing." In the evening 
another call came from the hospital. A patient lay 
in spasms. The nurse came after me, saying the 
doctors were all gone, would I do something for 
him ? Certainly, if I can. A hot brick, mustard 
and Jamaica ginger were soon in readiness, and off 
we were in a hurry. We had just got through when 
the doctor came into the tent with a scowl on his 
face, and when he saw me, he said, ''What are you 
doing here?" '^ Just what you should have done, 
doctor." The scowl deepened, and, turning to the 
nurse, he ordered mustard, etc. " That is what Miss 
Lawrence has just done." He turns to me with a 



12/ 

very pleasant, *' Thank you." It was my turn to 
scowl now. I bade the patient good night and left.' 
*' LawTence wont give up the ship." Mules are 
hard animals to tame, especially when they go on 
tzuo s. To resent an insult is a virtue. How dare 
he speak so to me, especially when I was doing his 
neglected work. 

Another comes in with his eyes swollen almost 
shut. '' I could put something hot on your face, 
but if you go out in the rain you will take cold 
and make it worse. I'll see if there is room up stairs 
where the orderlies sleep — yes, there is plenty of 
room. I made a bed on the floor for the poor boy, 
for the night. At bedtime my patient came back, 
saying the cook and the other boys drove him out. 
''Well," I said, ''you sit here. I'll go and see the 
colonel. Perhaps I had no right to put you there." 
Off I started, through the rain and darkness, for the 
colonel's quarters. I told what I had done, and the 
result. "Well," he said, " I'll see; but how did 
you find your way here through the darkness?" 
" Come in," Mrs. B. said. " Oh, no, I am all 
wet and mud, and must go back. My patient 
is in my room. I must find a place for him." 
The colonel went Avith me, taking a lantern, and 
we got back nicely. The doctor's cook had no 
right up stairs, and yet he drove the poor boy 
out of his bed. The matter was investigated, and 
those who drove the sick boy from his bed were 
ordered to put up a tent the next day and lodge in 
it ; they were healthy and strong. A short time 



128 

after this occurrence I was summoned to the court- 
martial department, to appear at the hour of two 
P. M. A gentleman accompanied me to the place, 
for it would have taken me hours to have found it. 
We reached it at last. On entering the tent, the 
affair appeared to me so comical that I could not 
suppress my merriment. I said, " Gentlemen, what 
is it?" '' Well, the complaint is that you borrowed 
an article of the cook, and never returned it." 
" That is true," said I, " but he told me to keep it 
until he called for it ; it is a dish-pan. Shall I 
return it or have him call for it, and what is my 
punishment?" ''Go back and have him court-mar- 
tialed." " No ; he got angry with me for his being 
sent out into a tent to sleep, because he sent a sick 
soldier boy out of his bed when he had no right to 
do so, for he (the cook) slept in the kitchen, or 
should have done so, and the boy was in another 
part of the house." '' Well," said they, " he deserves 
to be court-martialed." ''No, let him go. He is 
already punished ; drop it, court." 

" We hear that you are doing a good work here, 
madam, and any thing we can do for you we shall 
be most happy to do." " Thank you." Then I said 
to myself, " ' Lawrence will not give up the ship ' 
until the soldiers of this encampment have a better 
home. The ball is rolling, keep at it, only a little 
more time. I'll accomplish all that is necessary, if 
Capt. S. only gets my papers ready." 

Looking out of my back window, I noticed a man 
walking in a tent, doubled over apparently in dis- 



129 

tress. I said, " Deacon, let one of the other boys 
look after that ; I want you to go with me for a few 
minutes ; I think there is a sick man." Now, wi^h 
some flannels, a double gown, hot brick (which we 
always keep on hand), and hot drops, we went in 
search of our sick boy, and found him very sick, 
lying on the ground on a blanket, with scarcely any 
thing over him. The deacon took charge of him, 
while I went back and sent down a straw mattress 
and a dish of nun soup. The boy was over the 
shakes in a few days, and able to be out. In many 
cases good nursing was all that was necessary. 

In the absence of the doctors I would take a peep 
into the hospital tents. I have just found a German 
gentleman, quite ill and near the end of his race. 
He said he came to this country with the intention 
of making America his home, and as soon as he 
could find a place that would answer his purpose, 
he would send for his family. He was a merchant. 
When he got here the country was getting ready 
for war. He enlisted in the Union army, and 
now, said he, " I must die, and never see my family 
again." He asked me to remember him in my 
pr.yers; he was ready to depart and be with 
Christ. He was glad that I could speak his native 
language. I asked him, ^' Can I procure any thing 
for your present comfort ? " He thought he would 
like a few grapes or grape wine. I was minus 
both, but he should have it as soon as possible. 
He had both the next day, and died the day after. 
How many a noble man has laid down his life 
9 



130 

upon the altar of his country, and that to save 
one of the best governments the world ever saw, 
and may it never know treachery again within its 
own borders. 

One case after another presents itself. Members 
of Young Men's Christian Associations visit me 
occasionally, and leave me citizens' clothing, should 
we need such. There was but one case that I 
thought myself justifiable in helping. He was old 
and rheumatic, utterly unfit for military duty. I 
asked him if he had his discharge. He said, " No, 
but I can get it." I told him that I Avould give him 
what clothing he needed after he got it. After 
some time he returned, and said he had his*discharge. 
I gave him what clothing he needed, and he left 
the encampment. I heard afterward that he did 
not have his discharge. I then made up my mind 
not to give out any more citizens' clothing. This 
appeared to be a justifiable case, but it was not my 
right to do so. 

Well, it is getting near winter ; my papers are 
5*imost ready. If the colonel finds out what I am 
doing, he will surely send me out of the encamp- 
ment ; but if the boys get a better place that will be 
all right. There can be no worse place than this, 
and my petition is for a place where the cars can 
bring provision, and where they can have plenty of 
water, also a place where the four winds are not likely 
to blow down their tents. Oh, my, I must be 
courageous even if I am court-martialed ! Here 
are all my papers made out to order. I have put 



131 

my hands to the work; now I must go forward, 
come what may. Lawrence must not give up the 
ship. My two beautiful black pony mules must be 
the bearers of this, and off we are for Washington 
once more. I reached the capital, went to the door 
of the House of Representatives, called for Congress- 
man Goochs, and gave him my papers. He asked 
me to come in. I excused myself and was off. It 
being too late to return to the encampment, I made 
out my requisition for the next morning, sent the 
ambulance and driver to the quarters, and went 
myself to the King House. 

A lady from Lewis county, N. Y., wanted to see 
me. She said a young man, her sister's son, came 
to Washington, and they had not heard from him 
since he was at the Armory Square Hospital. I 
said, " What was his business while he was at this hos- 
pital?" She said, '' I do not know." ''Well," I asked, 
''what did he do when at home?" "He taup-ht 

o 

school." "Did he ever study medicine ?" "No." 
" Well, there was a young man by that name who 
was in my ward, and who called himself ' Doctor R.' 
He let a man bleed to death because he knew not 
what to do. He also amputated a man's leg, and 
kept him on the table until I threatened to report 
him to head-quarters if he did not take care of the 
man. He was looking to find a bone. The man 
was faint from loss of blood, and mangled by 
unskillful hands long enough to be at rest." 

Next day I started with three loads for the encamp- 
ment, which I reached in safety. A number of car- 



132 

riages were being driven through the encampment 
and around the building, wherever there was room 
for them to pass through. Some were out of their 
carriages, as if they were looking up something. 
One looks like the gentleman to whom I gave my 
papers. Ah ! that's it — members looking over the 
grounds. I pray that they will do something for 
our boys. Half of them will not be left by spring 
if they remain here. Yes, members are looking 
over the ground. One is shaking his head, another 
is making his arms go so earnestly. I must not let 
them see me peeping out the window. The colonel 
must be out by this time. The doctors are out by 
two P. M., for the row of patients has disappeared. 
It seems strange to have them shut the door at 
two o'clock, Avhen so many have to turn back to 
their tents, and are so very sick. That poor, sick 
boy who was brought in here the other day fell 
down by the door just as it was shut almost in his 
face. " Well, deacon, why did you not tell me of 
that at the time?" ''Well, you were busy." 

It is wonderful how I hold out. I never felt 
more like working. It must be that this upland is 
healthy. 

Time goes on as usual. Almost a week since 
this place was under inspection. But they must 
have some time to select a place and get it in 
suitable condition. My every-day work goes on as 
usual. 

A week and more has passed and here comes 
Colonel B. and another gentleman. They both look 



133 

angry, passing the window. A rap at the door. 
" Come in." ^' Good morning." '' Good morning, 
colonel." ^' Miss Lawrence, I want you to vacate this 
room." "To-day, colonel ? " ''Yes, to-day." ''Very 
well. What shall I do with the provisions ? " " You 
can have a tent." A tent was put up for the pro- 
visions. " So you want the stove taken down ? " 
(Oh, he is gone !) In comes the deacon. " Well, 
Deacon Goodrich, where are the boys ? The colonel 
was just in here and gave orders to have this 
room vacated to-day. It is early, but we had better 
let the boys come and have their rations, and deal 
out that which is cooked. They will know what to 
do with it." 

After the meals were served the rest of the pro- 
visions were given to those who needed them. The 
stove, mattresses and every thing that the boys 
wanted were made use of. There were some sor- 
rowful faces to be seen. One poor boy, almost a 
cripple, felt so bad, he said he had just begun to get 
better ; now he would have no one to see to him. 
I said the deacon would see to him, and I should 
see him occasionally. Thus the day is passing away. 
I gathered up my things and had them put on the 
ambulance, ready for a start to Alexandria, to stay 
a few days before going to Fairfax. 

Saturday afternoon I called at Dr. B.'s ofifice. 
While waiting my turn, a very tired looking 
woman came and asked the doctor if he could 
tell her where she could find her son. She and a 
friend of hers had just returned from Harper's 



134 

Ferry. Her friend had found her dead son and had 
gone home, but she thought her son was living, 
and was told that she might find him at the 
convalescent camp near Alexandria. The doctor, 
pointing to me, said, '* That lady can tell you 
about that place." I invited her to my room and had 
her lie down to rest while I was getting tea. After 
our meal I asked her if she would like to go to the 
encampment. " Oh, yes." I ordered my ambu. 
lance and sent a nurse with her. '' Now," I said 
'^go directly to Colonel B.'s quarters, and he can 
tell you if your son is there in a very few minutes. 
There will be no trouble to find him if you do as I 
tell you." 

Back they came — the poor mother, in her great 
anxiety, went hunting for her son. " What shall I 
do?" *' Do as I tell you, and you will certainly 
find your boy if he is there." 

She went up again next morning and found the 
colonel's quarters, but her son was not there ; she 
came back almost heart-broken, and was sure she 
would never see her son again. " Now, Mrs. S.," I 
said, '^ you are welcome to stay with me and get 
rested, and to-morrow morning I'll take you to 
Washington and find your son. Now, cheer up. 
How much of a family have you?" ^' I have two 
daughters and this one son. My husband is dead." 
'' How old is your son ? " " Eighteen years." 
" Quite young for a soldier." Monday morning we 
were on our way to Washington. I went directly 
to the medical director's office, and found his name. 



135 

He Is sick at Mount Pleasant Hospital, or the con- 
valescent camp, quite a little distance from the hos- 
pital. '^ Here we are. Now, Mrs. S., you stay here 
and I'll find in a few minutes if he is here." I went 
into the doctor's office, and found his name 
recorded. I asked the doctor to let me go in the 
ward and see him. I walked through the ward and 
came to his cot. He was eating his dinner, " Well, 
my boy, you are doing well, I see." " Yes," he said. 
I walked around the ward and then came back 
where he was. I said, '' You are quite young for a 
soldier. Are your parents living?" ''Yes, my 
mother is. I have two sisters, that is all." ''Would 
you like to see your mother?" "Oh, yes; is she 
here?" " Yes, she is on her way here, but you 
must not be excited or you may get worse." " No, 
I wont." " I'll bring her in." After consulting the 
doctor I went to tell Mrs. S. that her son was here. 
" But be calm, he is weak, and it may make him 
Avorse." But I might as well command the Potomac 
to run over the Arlington hills. The mother and 
her boy were elapsed in each other's arms weeping 
for joy, thanking the Lord that they are permitted 
to see each other alive. I thought I should come 
in next for a pressure, but I came off nicely. She 
then says, " Could you find me a cheap boarding 
place for a short time, until my son gets stronger ; 
perhaps they will let me take him home." " I'll see 
the doctor." "Yes," he said; "tell the matron to 
give her a room until her son gets well." 

She had her room and board free. I went back 



136 

to Alexandria. I met Dr. K. on the street. He 
said to me, " I have one of your boys in my hjos- 
pital, quite sick. He would like to see you. I 
went immediately, and to my surprise found 
Deacon Goodrich, who was glad to see me. He 
said he had his discharge, and expected to start 
for home the next day. He Avas taken sick soon 
after I left, and was brought to the hospital. I said, 
" Do you know that the encampment is to be 
moved very soon, to within four miles of the long 
bridge, right near the railroad, in a beautiful grove 
of evergreens, and plenty of water?" He said, " I 
was glad when you left, for I was afraid something 
would befall you. Some of the heads were very 
angry at you, and said that you were at the bottom 
of all that trouble. They knew that it meant some- 
thing when they saw the members' carriages. But 
I don't think they were at home. It was after the 
doctors had shut the doors ; some, no doubt, saw 
them, but then it was too late for them to demon- 
strate." " Well, deacon, what can I do for you ? " 
^'Nothing; but if I am well enough to go home 
to-morrow, will you take me to Washington, to the 
cars ? " " Certainly I will ; I will call about nine 
o'clock, but don't be in any hurry until you are well 
enough to stand the long journey." Poor man ! he 
little thought when he left his family that he was 
never to return to them again. The next morning 
I was ready to go to the hospital. Dr. K. met me 
at the door, and said, '' The deacon has gone to 
Arlington. He is through with the trials of life." 



137 

I wonder how many more of my boys will go the 
same way ; two of my orderlies out of six are gone. 
I'll be glad when they are all moved ; they were 
putting up barracks, I heard, a week ago. I must 
go and see the place when they all get there. 

To-morrow I go to Faixfax ; there I go in a regu- 
lar hospital ; that will be nice. The morning comes, 
and I start for my new quarters, and passed the old 
encampment. It looks as usual, a city of tents, 
white sepulchers, full of living bones. Never mind, 
you will have a better home very soon. Your cot- 
tages are peeping through the evergreens. They 
will soon be ready to receive you. 

I have reached my new home all right. I com- 
mence at once to unload and make myself at home 
in regulating my room. I feel very tired and must 
rest. To-morrow I'll take care of the sick. The 
next day found me very busy in waiting upon the 
sick. The wards are not crowded, but some quite 
sick. All things went on in usual hospital style. 
Some were convalescent, some quite sick, and others 
ready to go to their regiment. One morning I sent 
for my driver to get ready for Washington. I 
wanted things for the boys. My pony mules were 
in fine order. As we were nearing the pld encamp- 
ment the driver called out, " Oh, Miss, look out ! 
Why a regiment is coming!" Said I, ''No, a 
brigade — two or three brigades, but they are all 
coming this way, and we shall meet them. We 
must turn out." '' No," he said, " they are going to 
the right ; drive on, I want to see them." Coming 



138 

nearer, who should it be but the brave boys of the 
old encampment, marching across the hill to their 
new home. My driver and ponies were soon 
noticed, and such a noise and shout went up — 
' Lawrence wont give up the ship." I waved my 
handkerchief, all the time crying like a baby. The 
battle was won. Those who were able to go on foot 
marched across, the distance being shorter. They 
carried all they could with them, such as camp-ket- 
tles and blankets, etc. I met loads further 
on. If ever I thanked my Heavenly Father sin- 
cerely, it was this day. I went on my way rejoicing 
to think that I had done a little good. That old 
convalescent camp was a place of human sacrifice 
for man and beasts also. The drum could be heard 
beating the dead march at any time. Now it will 
be different. Every thing they need can reach 
them by railroad, and they have plenty of water in 
a valley among evergreens, and in their barracks 
they are sheltered from .cold and rain. God bless 
our boys ! They have saved our country by Thy 
help. 

On reaching Washington I was put on the com- 
mittee for getting ready Christmas dinners for our 
soldiers. I was on the committee for convalescent 
camp. I said to Mrs. K., " TU help on Christmas 
day, but I cannot leave my hospital work to help 
cook and bake. I would be glad to help if I were 
near you, but I'll come down the day before, and 
do all I can on Christmas day." Back to my hos- 
pital work. Nothing of much account occurs 



139 

between this and my coming engagement. A 
woman came to my room one day and asked me. 
for some provisions. I of course inquired into her 
circumstances. She said she was left with a family 
of small children. " Have you a husband ? " I 
asked. " Yes, but he is gone." " Is he a soldier ? " 
"Yes." " Well, don't you hear from him?" We 
looked each other straight in the face. She burst 
into tears. The story is told. Her husband had 
gone into the Confederate army, and she and her 
children were left in a destitute condition. 

" My poor sister, don't feel so badly. I'll see to 
you, but say nothing. Come to me every day." I 
would take the value of my rations in money, and 
yet whatever I wished I always had plenty of, beans, 
rice, farina, cornstarch and the like, on hand, and the 
grounds are seldom vacant, and whenever a regiment 
or brigade moved they left plenty of provisions. 
I can help the poor woman, but I don't really 
know that I have a right to. I may get a court- 
martial again. My mind was not quite at rest, but 
my friend had her rations every day. I should 
not let her and her helpless children go without 
food. 

My work went on as usual with an occasional 
interruption. To this I became accustomed. Almost 
every day brings a new subject. I hope nothing 
will interfere with my going to-morrow to help serve 
the Christmas dinner as I have promised. 

Now, there are some clothes that must be washed 
immediately. I went down into the yard, met 



I40 

Helen, and asked her if she could do some extra 
washing for me, so that I could have them to-mor- 
row afternoon. 

"It is pretty near Christmas," she said, ''but I'll 
do them to-day." " But, Helen, see there, where 
did that white child come from ? " " Well, Missus, 
they come, a company of them, here a short time 
ago. The family all died and left the three children 
to the care of the slaves and were told to go into 
the Union lines, and that one is the youngest of 
them. Now, Missus, you had better take her, and 
not think of taking my little boy, he is my baby 
and I don't want to part with him." " Oh, no, Helen, 
I wont take your boy, you have more need of him 
than I have." '' But that little girl has no one to 
see to her. She will be glad to live with you, 
and then she is white and more like you white 
folks, and I'll go with you to the other two 
girls, if you will take her." " Oh, Helen, not now. 
I am going away to-morrow, and I have no time 
now." So I go back to my work wondering if 
I can leave every thing all right. There are none 
very sick now. But I must go at all events unless 
J can save life by staying here. I shall be absent 
only one night. The next ^afternoon I reached 
Washington, went to work and found enough to do. 

Christmas day came. We started at an early 
liour. Most of the provisions were sent by railroad, 
such as apples, oranges, oysters, and all such as 
could be sent in barrels and boxes. Turkey and 
poultry of all kinds, and vegetables, pies, puddings 



141 

and cakes, were sent in government wagons. A 
long row of government teams and carriages, headed 
by the well-known black ponies, were on the way to 
the new convalescent camp. On our arrival the 
band struck up " Yankee Doodle." All things went 
off very nicely. It was the wish of the committee 
that we all share alike. 

I met some old acquaintances from New York 
State that I was very glad to see. But I did not 
forget the colonel of the old encampment. A large 
tin-pan was fitted out with some of all the luxuries 
we had and forwarded to him. 

This was a hard day's labor for the committee, 
but we enjoyed it, for we knew that the boys had a 
happy day and that made the burden light. 

Weary after my day's work, I returned to my 
hospital duties. The next day I had a call from 
Helen, with two little girls, and a sister of the little 
one that she wanted me to take. '^ This one you 
can have as your own," the sister said with a tremor 
in her voice. "You do not want to give away your 
sister, do you ? I have no home now for myself, 
nor for her," I said. '' I reckon she will be better 
off with you than with me; I have a sister younger 
than I am ; I reckon I must look after her some.'* 
"You poor child," I thought, "not more than 
twelve years old yourself, and the care of two chil- 
dren, and no means of support." They were repre- 
sented to me as slave children. The little girl had 
flaxen hair and dark blue eyes, but dark complexion, 
or terribly sunburned. I at once took the child^ 



142 

thinking I would find a home for her. She was a 
beautiful child, and I soon became very much 
-attached to her. She was not yet three years old. 
I thought I Avould keep her until I could find a 
place for her. I was aware that a hospital was not 
a proper place, even if I were permitted to keep her 
with me, but I will keep her here for a short time. 
Helen comes. " Missus, there is a wedding to- 
morrow night, Jacob and Anna to be married. They 
want you to come, and I have come to give you an 
invitation. "Where is it?" I asked. "In the 
chapel." "Yes, I'll come." The chapel was 
directly under my room. " May I ask Miss Jack- 
son ? " " Yes." This was the second wedding that 
I was invited to attend. There was a large gather- 
ing. The groom was a recruiting officer. The bride 
had always lived in one of the best families of 
Virginia. There was quite a large number of 
white people, especially officers, to witness the cere- 
mony. It was performed by Rev. Washburn, an 
Episcopal clergyman, and was done briefly and in 
order. After a bountiful repast for the young couple 
and their especial company they returned to the 
•chapel, where they had music and dancing. We 
remained to witness a few rounds and retired. 
Many officers danced with the bride, who was very 
handsome, and but little darker than a brunette. 
The husband was darker. They made a fine ap- 
pearance. He was dressed in his uniform, and the 
bride in white. Thus passed off the second wed- 
ding while in this hospital. But another was in 



143 

anticipation. I was just thinking how many changes 
I had passed through since I first came to Wash- 
ington. Had all the hardship that I have encoun- 
tered been brought to view at once, I certainly could 
not have withstood the thought. But upheld by 
an unseen hand I have been permitted to stand the 
burdens laid upon me. As one after another came, 
I had strength given for endurance. The soldiers 
were always respectful, and were ready to appre- 
ciate a kindness, which always paid for kindness be- 
stowed. Aside from any daily work of caring for 
the sick, I was always ready to work to better the 
condition of the soldiers, as in the case of the old 
convalescent camp, in which I was the first and sole 
mover in obtaining a new and better encampment 
in every respect. 

One day in the old camp I saw men going and 
coming from the reservoir, which was on another 
elevation, drop down with their bucket of water, 
unable to go further until some one came to their 
help. There was but one place to obtain water, as 
far as I could ascertain, and that was the well at the 
house. 

Here comes another patient, but he is not a sol- 
dier. This is not a civil hospital, but the man is 
very sick and must have care. There is plenty of 
room., and I'll care for him until he can do better. 
I asked for his name and residence. He was assist- 
ant editor of the Hartford Coiirant. I wrote im- 
mediately for his wife to come. I was fearful that 
he would not live. The little woman answered my 



144 

letter by her presence, and by good care and nurs- 
ing he was able to return to his duty in a few 
weeks. 

Another wedding is to come off to-morrow even- 
ing in the chapel, and another invitation is sent to 
me. So my lady friend and myself were to witness 
another ceremony. The clergyman who married 
the other two couple had gone. But they, at last, 
found a colored minister who was to perform the 
ceremony out of an Episcopal prayer book, which 
was very lengthy. He was unable to read, only as 
he spelled every word. " Oh my, I can't stand this; 
we shall be here until sunrise to-morrow ! " I looked 
around for some one to help the poor, embarrassed 
minister. I caught a glimpse of Captain Doty. I 
stepped up to him and asked him to go Avith me to 
help that man through with that ceremony. " Do, or 
we shall stay until sunrise. I'll introduce you, and 
you read the ceremony and let him repeat it after 
you, and then let him pray and that will end it." 
''Yes," said he, "but the light is bad." "Well, 
I'll take a light from the mantel and meet you 
there ; now go." I stepped quickly, got an extra 
candle and meet the captain in the middle of the floor 
under the chandelier. I said, " Excuse me, friend, 
we have come here to help you." This is Captain 
Doty who will read for you, and you repeat after him, 
and then make the prayer." "Oh, thank you, 
Missus ! " The ceremony then went off all right and 
satisfactory to both preacher and people. The next 
day it was chronicled that it took three persons to 



145 

marry a darkey couple. The minister, Captain D., 
and Miss L. This ended the wedding for the present. 
At this time I was looking forward to a vacation. 
In this I had been disappointed. I did not look 
forward with much assurance, but a faint prospect 
of which I may avail myself. 



CHAPTER IX. 

*' Ingratitude! how base a thing thou art." 

I must here relate another of my hospital inci- 
dents, which goes to show that the law of kindness 
does not always work out the best problem. 

There were two Confederate patients — prisoners 
— brought in for me to care for. One was very 
passive and gentlemanly, the other a profound fire- 
eater, and very abusive. Here were two distinct 
characters. The one, patient and penitent, died, I 
believe, a true Christian. 

The death of the one seemed for a little time to 
check the viciousness of the other, and I began to 
be hopeful that he was reforming, but this soon 
wore off, when he fell back into his old self and 
commenced his slang remarks. It was: ''Yank! 
give me a drink." I paid no attention. " Don't 
you hear me ? " No reply. ''Nurse! I'm thirsty." 
No answer. " Now say, nurse, please give me a 
drink." "Certainly." " Thank you. Nurse you're 
d d cranky, ain't you?" 

" Now see here, young man, I'll give you a word 
of advice. If you call me 'Yank' again, or utter 

lO 



146 

another oath in my presence, I will report you at 
head-quarters. You are treated with kindness 
which you illy deserve. Should I report you, you 
will not fare quite so well." 

Here was a case where the utmost kindness had 
not the slightest effect, but the wholesome fear of 
being reported and the consequent inconvenience 
which might follow produced the desired result. 
He was somewhat sullen and silent, but his slang 
and profanity ceased. Of course he got well, and I 
suppose was, in time, exchanged, perhaps a wiser, if 
not better man. 



CHAPTER X. 

"But alas; what holy angel 
Brings the Slave this glad evangel? 
And what earthquake's arm of might 
Breaks his dungeon-gates at night ? " — Longfellow. 

Colored People's Religious Meeting. 

It was remarkable how the colored people looked 
forward to the day of release. Occasionally I at- 
tended their religious meetings at Fairfax Sem- 
inary. They were most earnest in prayer for 
Massa Linkum. 

One would ask the Lord to bless Father Abra- 
ham, entreat him to prepare a golden chair in 
heaben for Massa Linkum. They were looking so 
many years for him and now he had come to set 
the people free. Nicodemas must now be woke up 
to hear the joyful news. "Call up the dead brud- 



147 

der, that he may bless the Lord wid us. The 
driber's whip will not make our backs bleed no mo. 
No! No! He may blow de horn for de possum on 
de gum tree, but not for us. No! No! 

" Sisters Sue and Debby what you set so still 
for? Why you no jump up and say something 
for de good Lord when He done so much for you? 
We must not sleep at our posts now for de Debil 
am a bad boy and if we don't kill him a scare him 
away he will hab us sure." 

Debby gets up, and says, " Some time I'se sorry 
I'se brack, but when de Lord bless me I'se so 
happy I forget I'se brack. Den I wonder if we 
gets to heaben if we be brack thar. I spec we be 
white, we don't known one anoder thur. But I 
tinks thar be brack angels thur case Aunt Cassy 
and Uncle Zed were mity good. I wonder if Massa 
and Missus will be thur? I tinks if day do day 
will be awful Strang. Day hab better begin to 
pray here and praise de Lord. Let us neber look 
back, my brudders and sisters. Oh no ! Dare is 
noting for us to look back to but hardships, toil 
and de whip, but we keep prayin' till de Lord send 
Massa Linkum and made us free. I'se so happy, 
brudders and sisters, dat I feel like jumping up an 
down." 

Up gets sister Sue. '' I specs dat de time am 
close here when we shall see dem dats gone to 
heaben. Sure poor Dell mus be dar for he keeps 
prayin' till Massa mos kill him. Does you tink 
Massa go to heaben ? No, nebber, sure ; case he 



148 

be so bad he want to fight. Thar'll be no such 
tings dar. He go wid his cHque where he can 
smoke, for I tink he'll hab lots of dat sort of folks 
dar. Only tink how we work hard all de day and 
hab so little for to eat when Massa lib so high an 
hab eberyting good, and done no work ony whip 
us poor bracks. Oh! I wants Massa to hab a good 
scorchin' sure, den he behaves hisself and lets him 
done go. I bress de good Lord dat we be free." 

" Now will one ob de brudders from Massa Ayers' 
farm tell how he gets on ? 

''Well, brudder, I'se bout de same. I'se mos sick 
wid my long trabbles of a hunerd miles, sides 
helpin' carryin' chillun all dat way and tink de Rebs 
close on our heels. An den Uncle Ben done go 
back to fine de little gal what was lef on de spot 
where we sleep on de groun a liddle time jus when 
we trabble seventeen miles. Den we tinks we hear 
de bosses comin' an we start up mighty spry, and 
de liddle gal was sleepin' in de bushes. We keep on 
markin' de trees dat Uncle Ben see de way we trab- 
ble an' cotch up Avid us. Sometime we tink Uncle 
Ben an' de liddle gal am los sure, or de Rebs cotch 
em, fo we tinks we trabble slow so dat Uncle Ben 
com up wid us. But de sun go down. Den de two 
chillen cryin' fo dare liddle sister sure dat day will 
nebber see Uncle Ben and liddle Fanny no mo, but 
we keep lookin' back an' we see suthin' dat hab two 
heads right in de road dat we tuck, comin' after us. 
De chillun cry dat suthin' was goin' to eat em up. 
Den what you tink? It was Uncle Ben an' Fanny. 



149 

You should see den. Dare was anoder tune. Singin* 
an jumpin,' runnin' to meet Uncle Ben wid Fanny on 
his shoulders, which made de animal wid two heads. 
Den we pray an' bress de good Lord sure. Sunday 
night on rebel groun', long way befo we reach Massa 
Linkum's quarters ; pears like we nebber get dar. 
Long way to Massa's, but we sleep nights, de chillun 
tire, de good Lord, He help us. Next day we trab- 
ble we come to Massa's. We stop wid de colored 
people to rest. Den jus' one night an' one day, de 
Rebs wus comin', den we pick up de chillun an' 
we trabble. We no mo stop till we come to Massa 
Linkum's quarters, mos' dead an' starved. But I 
bress de good Lord dat I'se here wid yo' to-night. 
We mus' be faithful, cause He done so much for us." 

" Now anoder brudder tell us his 'scapes an 
blessins." 

Uncle Jim speaks. Uncle Jim: " I'se had narrer 
'scapes. I'se sure de good Lor' help dis chile, or 
I'se nebber been here dis yere night. I'se run from 
de farm an' ole Massa in de nite. I tinks I could 
cotch de Yanks, den I'se would be safe sure. I 
gets a smart way, den I'se hears de houns barkin'. 
I gets up in de tree. I pray de good Lor' to help 
dis pore nigger. I'se hear de guns all roun' an' de 
barkin'. I'se tinks, Jim, you'se done gone sure. I 
prays de good Lor' takes dis yere pore brack nigger. 
Den jus' I look an' dare comes right up to de tree 
lot of boys, blue coats an' guns. Sure Jim, you're 
done gone now. Day call out, ' Hello, Possum ! 
come down, we wants you.' Good Lor ! day's goin' 



150 

to eat me for possum. I'se comin' down de tree. I 
tinks de Lor' no hear dis pore nigger bray dis yere 
time. Den I gets down drembling so, I falls down. 
Days take me by de han' an' say, ' Pore brack boy ! ' 
Den, no 'fraid, we no hurt you, come wid us, we 
take care ob you. I goes wid dem. I tinks an' 
wonders who dem be. Day be Rebs day shoot me ; 
day mus' be Yanks. Den I tinks, no, day hab no 
horns on dare heads. Massa say dat Yanks hab 
horns, an' awful critters. I tinks de good Lor' hab 
send dem to save dis yere pore nigger. I trabble 
wid dem. Days gib me shoes to wear, widdles to 
eat till I come yere. Den day say I'se one ob 
Father Abraham's chillun. Yes, bredren, I'se berry 
happy dis ebenin'. When we gets to heaben an' 
sees Massa Linkum an' Massa Jesus, I spec we be 
paid for all wese hab to trabble troo here. Dis am 
de beginnin' ob de Jubilee. I knows it be comin' 
fo long time. De eagle scream it, de wile duck tell 
It, eberyting tell we be free. We sure dat de Lor' 
would come." 

'^ Now, Aunt Zilve, let us hear ob your 'scapes an' 
sperances." 

" De wonders dat de Lor' do fo us pore bracks. 
Well, Massa come one mawning and say to us, he 
look bery down an' say, ' Zilve, I spec yore Massa 
an' Missus mus' go to Richmon', cause de Yankees 
am comin' sure, an' some ob you better go to de 
house an' keep it fo us, caze day no hurt you. Us 
white day be after cotching. Yo' an' Pete go right 
off.' Den we go to de house. Massa an' Missus 



151 

take all day can wid dem. Day lef a mighty heap 
behine, lots ob wine an' cider in de cellar, ham an' 
poke in de smoke-house, and nice tings in de house. 
We tinks de year ob Jubilee be on our heels. 
Massa say, ' Take good care ob de house ; you'se hab 
good pay when we'se come back.' Yes, bredren an' 
sistren, yo' knows what dat pay is. De sweat dat 
comes out ob our pore brack skin, an' de driber's 
whip, till de brud runs down our heels. Dat am 
de pay we gits. I no say dat, but I tink, ole Massa, 
you'se hab de long end ob de rope. Now we take 
mighty good care ob de way we pull dis rope. We 
lib mity high ob de good tings. Den de Linkum 
boys cum an' say, ' Done yo' wan' to be free ? ' Dat 
be better dan de wine an' cider, case dat be mos' 
gone, an' de key ob de smoke-house Pete tro in de 
well. Den we takes close an' widdles an' trabble 
night an' day till we gets here. I'se tell yo' bred- 
ren an' sistren, de good Lor' helps us pore bracks to 
all de tings we hab. He know how Massa an' 
Missus 'buse us, an' now we'se gwine to hab our good 
tings." 

" De darkey get so lonesome liben 
In de log house all alone, 
So day move dare tings in Massa's parlor, 
For to keep dem while he's gone. 
Dares wine an' cider in de cellar, 
An' de darkeys da'll hab sum, 
I specks it all be cornfiscated 
When de Linkum sogers come. 
Ole Massa run, ha — ha, 
De darkeys stay, ho — ho. 
It mus' be now dat de kingdom's comin* 
An' de year ob Jubilo." 



152 

'^ Well dat be good, my sister, but we musen't for- 
get dat de good Lord say we mus' pray fo' dem dat 
hurt us. Now will we hear from anoder what de 
Lord done for dem ? " 

" Well, brudder, I tinks sometime what de preacher 
said one time, dat ef day strike yo' on one cheek, 
den let dem strike yo' on de odder. I'se not ob dat 
'pinion. When de Massa strike on de two cheeks 
an' den on de back till de blood run down on de flo, 
I tinks I no pray him. I wants him to hab sum ob, 
de same medcin'. We work hard all de day, den 
we go home an' bake de hoe-cake, den by de time 
we gets our supper an' see to de chillun, den how 
much sleep we gits? Massa gets de money, good 
dress-up an' good widdles, an' we bracks gets all dat 
for Massa, an' he do noting but whip us. I tink it be 
time de good Lor' wake up on dis subjec' and send 
Massa Linkum to do away wid such persecution. 
I tinks de Lor' do right, but I tinks we bracks do 
wrong, way back perhaps dats we gets punished. 
Maybe Ys2 wrong, but if de debil gibs Massa a 
shakin' up all ober I'se satisfied. I tink he gets mo 
as dat." 

" Well, my good brudder, we mus' do right, ef 
Massa do wrong to us, ef we spec' to go to heaben. 
Now anoder brudder tell us ob de way ob his trials." 

" Brudder Sam tells my 'sperance zackly. Massa 
sent me to get de boss. Den I comes wid de 
mule. He so mad dat he say he sell ebery child 
I'se hab. I tell Nabby dat the poor chillun Massa 
goin' for to sell. She say, ' Tom, let us pray de 



153 

good Lawd dat he trow a big stumble-stone in 
Massa's road. He no safe as he tinks he be. I 
dream las' nite dat Massa war going up de hill fo' 
Richmond Dat mean sumting, an' I hear de eagle 
scream dis yere mawnin' so hard dat it shook me 
all ober. Dat all tells dare be trubble ahead. Ebery- 
ting 'pears hab tudder color dess yere days. Oh I 
tinks dat de year ob Jubilee be at de do'.' 'Yes, 
but de chillun, Nabby, what yo' do fo' dem ?' 

"'Tom, where yo' tinks he sell dem? Dare be 
trabblin' to de Richmond. De wa' be on dem 
'ready, den de next ting yo' hab to go an' kill de 
Yankees.' 

" ' Nabby, you tinks I'se kill dem dat be our 
friens? Nebber ! Ef dare be a chance we hab 
better try an' go Norf. I tinks Massa want de hoss 
for to go him journey. Dare Massa comin' now. 
Where de chillun ? ' 

" ' Nebber yo' mind, he no wants dem. Massa 
look troubbled." 

" ' Tom, I want you an' Nabby to go an' take 
care ob de house. Missus an' I be goin' to Rich- 
mon'. De Yankees ar' comin' but day wont hurt 
yo'. Here be de keys. Take good care ob de 
house an' tings. I'se pay yo' well. Good bye.' 

'''Tom, yo' cryin' ? Yo' big fool. Ef Massa 
come back all right, he giv' yo' good whippin'. 
Dat what de pay will be. Now yo' jes' mine dis 
yere nigger. We take the chillun an' go Norf 
when de Linkum sogers come. Day takes care ob 
Massa's house.' 



154 

" ' I say, Nabby, our time be come. Ef it bees not 
de year of Jubilee, den it bees suthin' jes' as good/ 
We goes to de house an' dare we find 'nough to 
eat. Den we looks all ober de house. Day takes 
not all de good tings wid dem. We find chicken, 
an' bacon, an' cider in de cellar. Dat cider was 
mighty strong. It 'pear to go to de head an' den 
de feet go crooked ; an de Linkum sogers day 
come mighty strong. Day look zef day hab no mo'. 
* I say, Nabby, may be day take us 'long up Norf. 
Den what yo' do? ' 

" ' Oh, I go sure ef day takes de chillun.' We 
gets ready, an' we takes all we can carry when we 
starts fo' de Norf, an' here we be dis yere bressed 
night. Father Abraham's chilluns. De Lor' hab 
been berry good to us to bring us Norf, my bredren. 
We hab a hard road to trabble, now we mus' be 
berry good." 

'' Now will anodder brudder or sister give us an- 
odder 'sperance ? " 

Sister Susie begins by singing : 

' Let us nebber get weary in servin' de Lor'. 
There's a good time comin'," etc. 

'^ When I tinks how much de Lor' hab done for us 
pore bracks, an' how we doan get whipped no mo', 
I jes' wants to jump up an' clap my hans fo' joy. 
We would nebber be here dis yere ebenin' if He no 
send Massa Linkum. Fse fogiv ole Massa fo' all de 
bad he done me, but when Missus keeps tellin' him 
to whip me mo', till my back was all to pieces, I 



155 

tink she get sumting in de tudder worl'. I'se not 
jus' right, an' I prays I may be better. We all need 
to be better dan we be. We're trabblin' to de 
tudder worl', an' we mus' press on ef we 'tain de prize.'* 

" Now, dere be time fo' a few mo' to speak an' 
tell dar 'sperance." 

Aunt Chloe now speaks. 

" Well, I 'grees wid de mos' ob de bredren and 
sistren, but I hab good Massa an' Missus mos' ob 
de time. De bad time was when day takes de 
chillun away from dare mudders, and sell dem away 
where we nebber see dem no mo'. Dat be so hard, 
Dat be dat break dese pore brack hearts. We luh 
our chillun. We hab so little in dis yere wold to 
lub 'cept our chillun an' de Lor', I'se be glad dat we 
be where we can hab our chillun ; dat no Massa can. 
take dem 'cept de Lor'. Dat be right. Fse sure dat 
we be free. Fse see de sign in de sky one dark 
night. I see terrible fightin'. I tells Jo dat de Lor* 
He come sure. Den I hear roarin'. Den de eagle, 
keep screamin'. Lse tinks our reckon-day hab cum. 
Den I dreams 'bout goin' to de Promise Lan' dat I 
tink 'bout it all de time. Now I'se so happy sure,, 
keepin' de chillun an' we be free. I bress de Lor'. 
He make us de people yet ef we be faitful. We 
mus' not forget dat de good Lor' hear prayer. He. 
help us. We forgets Him too offen." 

^' Now, den, ef dare be anudder one let him 
speak." 

Aunt Esta : " When I'se was a comin' Norf, I 
say to Brudder Sol, 'After Massa and Missus gwine 



156 

to Richmon', I take some of Missus' dresses, case' 
I'se worked for dem.' Sol, he tinks no. I sez, ' Yes, 
I'se worked for Missus twenty year an' gets noting 
but coarse does and widdles. Now I takes my pay.' 
Den I takes some of Missus' dresses, shawl, parsol 
an' oder tings, cause de lef in mighty hurry. Day 
say de Yankees be on dare heels. Now, Sol, I feel 
sorry for Massa an' Missus. Day war mighty 
cleaver to us bracks. Massa feel berry bad dis yere 
mawnin'. He say to Missus: 'Dis yere slavery is 
bad bizness. It makes all de trouble.' ' Yes,' say 
Missus, ' I wish it would be dun. We hab no trouble 
wid our bracks, an' we all be better off ef we nebber 
had hab to do wid dis bizness, an' no we mus' do 
de bes' we can.' Dat wus so. De Yankees cum 
marchin' dat berry night, but day no hurt us bracks. 
Day help demselbes Avid de widdles, dat be all. 
Den day for goin' to take Sol. De I say, ' He my 
brudder, an' I am 'lone.' Den day say, ' Where am 
de Massa an' Missus ? ' ' Day dun gone to Richmon'.* 
Den day say, ' Yo go Norf, you be safe.' Den day 
go. I say to Sol, ' Now we go Norf, we be safe sure.' 
Hab we no reason to bress de Lor' ?" 

" Well, now, we Avill bring dis meetin' to a close 
by de las' exercises. Sister Chloe, take de flo' on 
dat side wid de sisters, an' fo' ob each party jine 
lians an' dance de roun'." 

Now they close by jumping round and singing: 

" We chase de debil roun' de stump, 
An' ebery jump we hit him a thump, 
Glory to Massa Lor'." 



157 

At another meeting quite a number would speak 
of the kindness of their masters and mistresses. 

SONG OF THE NEGRO BOATMAN. 

BY J. G. WHITTIER. 

Oh, praise and tanks, dear Lor' he come 

To set de people free. 
An' Massa tink de day ob doom 

An' we ob Jubilee. 
The Lor' dat heap de Red sea wave, 

He jus' as strong as den; 
He say de word, we las' night slaves, 

To-day de Lor's free men, 

De yam will grow, de cotton blow, 

We'll hab de rice an' corn. 
Oh, nebber you fear if nebber you hear 

De driber blow his horn. 

Ole Massa on he trabble gone. 

He leab de land behind; 
De Lor's bref blow him furder on, 

Like cornshuck in de wind. 
We own de hoe, we own de plough, 

We own de hans dat hold. 
We sell de pig, we sell de cow. 

But nebber a chile be sold. 
Chorus. 

We pray de Lor', He gib us sign, 

Dat some day we be free; 
De norf wind tell it to de pine, 

De wild duck to de sea. 
We tink it when de church bell ring, 

We dream it in de dream, 
De rice-bird mean it when he sing, 

De eagle when he scream. 

Chorus. 



158 

We know de promise nebber fail, 

An' nebber lie de word, 
So, like de 'postles in de jail. 

We waited for de Lord. 
An' now He open ebery door, 

An' trow away de key, 
He tink we lub Him so before. 

We lub Him better free. 

Chorus. 



CHAPTER XL 

" That life is long which answers life's best end." 

Dr. Samuel Fitch. 

I have often spoken of the house doctor at the 
Xalarama Hospital as being an earnest Christian 
gentleman, but I must give my readers a more per- 
sonal sketch of him, for he so impressed me as 
being the embodiment of true nobility that I feel 
like paying tribute to his memory. 

Dr. Samuel Fitch was a native of Delaware 
county in New York State, and possessed all the 
solid stability of his native hills. He came as a 
surgeon to our hospital, a very young man at the 
time, fresh from the medical college, but with skill 
in his profession, and a conscious sense of duty ; a 
close observer of human nature, as he had been a 
■close student, with a heart full of human sympathy 
for suffering and a hand ever ready to relieve. 
Station and color had no preferment with him. 
The poor black man was to him as much a child of 



159 

God's creation as was the president of our nation. 
A staunch temperance man, no one was ever 
poisoned or mutilated by his brain being fired or 
his hand unsteady by strong drink. 

On one occasion a poor colored boy, the son of a 
colored soldier, I think, was brought into the hospi- 
tal, sick with small-pox. The doctor at once took 
the case in hand, and, although from the first there 
was little to be hoped, this good Samaritan physi- 
cian gave this afflicted boy the best possible care, 
looking after him more personally lest other nurses 
might neglect the poor colored waif, remaining at 
his bedside nearly all the last night, administering 
both medicine to the sick body and consolation to 
the out-going soul. I well remember the care-worn 
look in his face and the tremor in his voice when 
he told me the poor boy was dead. 

With the constant changes ever necessitated by 
war, I was transferred to another hospital. The 
young physician stayed there. We met no more 
on earth, but through mutual friends I have learned 
of his faithful work after the war, both as physician 
and Christian, of his noble work in Sabbath schools 
and in whatever work might improve mankind. He 
went home to his reward in early life, greatly 
beloved and mourned by friends and acquaintances, 
but I fully expect to find him in heaven " among 
the good and true, when the robe of white is given 
for the faded coat of blue." 



i6o 



CHAPTER XII. 

" The outcasts of earth can risk their lives 
To save thee from destruction." 

A Faithful Slave. 

Here is a true statement where the love and 
faithfulness of a slave to his master's children goes 
without dispute. Uncle Ben had for many years 
been a good conscientious slave, the body-servant — 
as they were called — of Mr. Ayers, a lawyer who 
had migrated with his family and his mother to 
Virginia, and although not at all averse to owning 
and being waited upon by slaves, was nevertheless 
a staunch Union man. 

At, or just before the outbreak of the war, this 
Mr. Ayers was taken sick and died. Before his 
death, however, he did an act of justice by giving 
to all his slaves their freedom, and being quite a 
wealthy man, he owned a large number. 

The wife, always delicate, soon followed her hus- 
band, leaving three little girls, the youngest an 
infant, not many months old. 

The sole care of the household depended now 
entirely upon the aged grandmother and the slaves. 
They did not forsake the wife in her trouble, and 
when the Lord called her they still stood faithful 
to the old grandmother and the little ones. 

The Ayers blood was loyal to the flag of the 
Union, and the Confederates well knew it, and pro- 
ceeded to confiscate everything which they could 




VlANNA AYRES. 

Age at Time of Adoption, 12 Years. 



i6i 

get hold of. Trouble and privation soon finished 
up the feeble grandmother. 

She felt that death was near, and calling the 
faithful blacks around her, told them that she had 
only the Lord and them to leave with the little 
orphans. " And when I am gone," said she, " take 
the children and what clothing you can carry and 
try to reach the Union lines. I feel that God will 
be with you and that you will succeed. Put your 
trust in Him and take care of the children. He 
will bring you through." 

The grandmother was buried on Saturday, and 
that same evening, with some provisions and such 
other things as they could carry, they joined a 
party of refugees and started for the Union lines. 
All night long they pursued their weary journey, 
carrying the small children, who were too young to 
walk (and the company contained quite a number 
of such). Some time next morning, being greatly 
exhausted, having travelled some seventeen miles, 
with considerable loading, they halted in a thickly 
tangled wood for refreshments and a little much- 
needed rest. 

After breakfast they laid down for a few hours of 
sleep, fearing both the Confederate soldiers and the 
ravenous wild hogs, by which the woods were 
infested. 

After a while Uncle Ben, who was lying with his 

ear to the ground, thought he heard the tramp of 

horses, and immediately fright seized everybody. 

The sleeping children were snatched from under 

11 



1 62 

the brush and undergrowth, and the onward march 
was resumed on the double-quick. 

When they had gone a mile or two and no pur- 
suers were in sight or hearing, the excitement began 
to abate and then, to their great consternation, 
they found that little Fanny, the two-year-old baby, 
had been left behind. 

The company were still fearful of being followed 
by their enemies, and would not consent to turn 
back; then too, they said, the child had probably 
been devoured before this time by the wild hogs. 
The two older sisters were overwhelmed with grief 
at the loss of their baby-sister, and " their cries," 
said Uncle Ben, ''were more than I could bear. It 
was as much as any man's life was worth to think 
of facing one of those wild and vicious hogs, to say 
nothing of the Rebs, but I could not bear to think 
of losing the baby much better than the sisters 
could, so I determined to go back and try to find 
her. I told the rest to go on, but to mark the trees 
all along so that if I lived to get back to where we 
then were, I would be able to follow them. I then 
went back as fast as my feet could carry me. I 
kncAv the place when I came to it, as we had left 
some of the provisions in our hurry to get away. 
The provisions were there yet, but where was the 
child ? I could see nothing of her. My heart grew 
sick, for I throught of her poor little body, perhaps 
torn to pieces by the hogs. I called softly, Fanny! 
Fanny!! not daring to call loudly lest I should 
arouse some vicious animal and share the same fate. 



i63 

At last I saw the grass and bushes, at some distance, 
moving slowly. Cautiously I made my way toward 
the spot, not knowing what I might find there, but 
on nearing the place I saw moving among the 
bushes the flaxen locks of the baby. With a great 
throb of joy I bounded to the spot and caught her 
in my arms. She was crying softly. I asked her 
why she did not cry loud, and she said, ' 'Cause I 
fraid the hogs would hear me.' 

" I quickly had the little one astride my neck, 
her tiny hands clenched in my wooly hair — she 
knew how to ride that way — and didn't I gallup 
my best till I overtook the rest of the company, 
and didn't I keep an eye on that little gal all the 
rest of the time, till I sot her down inside the 
Union lines at Fairfax?" 

This is faithful old Ben, who had travelled a hun- 
dred miles and carried this baby most of the way, 
spelled only now and then by other kind-hearted 
darkeys. These poor people came into camp, weary^ 
hungry and foot-sore, having travelled night and 
day a great part of the time, harassed by the con- 
stant fear of being caught by the Rebs. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

At this time I had my little protegee with a 
friend in Washington, to stay until I went North. 

I called on a friend in Washington and met an 
old gentleman from Brooklyn, a member of Mr. 



164 

Beecher's church. He asked me what I intended 
to do with that little girl. I said, " It is impossible 
for me to say at present." " How came she to fall 
into your hands ? " '' Well," I answered, '* her sister 
came to me with the child and asked me if I would 
take the little one, as they had no place to stay, 
only with the family of colored people from Vir- 
ginia, and they had all left for the Union lines on 
foot. The slaves had their freedom given them 
before the death of the grandmother, and as soon 
as she was buried, they all started for the Union 
lines. A few days after this conversation they 
came to my room with the little girl to see if I 
would take her as my own." " Well," he said, "she 
was born in slavery?" "I cannot say, for at this 
time of excitement in connection with my duties, 
and in the midst of war, I have no means of ascer- 
taining. Of course I could not go into that part of 
Virginia now, even if I had time to do so." "Well," 
he said, " let me have her. I'll give you my gold 
watch for her." " Oh, my ! that would be selling 
her; no, indeed, never. If I conclude to keep her, 
I shall have her baptized and educated, and train 
her for future usefulness. I may leave her North 
with some good Christian family until the war 
closes. She is too young to go to school or I 
would select a good place for her at once. I can- 
not keep her in a hospital with me, for it is not 
allowed in military hospitals." "Would you take 
a letter for me to Mr. Beecher and give it to him in 
person ? " " Certainly, Mr. H. I shall call to see 




Fannie V. C. Lawrence Ayres. 
Age at Time of Adoption, 3 Years. 



i65 

some friends in Brooklyn, while stopping in New 
York, and shall be happy to oblige you." About 
this time I began to think it quite necessary to 
have a rest. My health began to fail. I asked for a 
vacation of a month, or more, if necessary. This 
was granted. I was soon in readiness for a trip North. 
I reached New York at three in the morning, and 
rested for a few days, and then started to deliver the 
message to Mr. Beecher, according to promise. I 
called on Mr. B. and was pleasantly entertained. Mr. 
Beecher said the letter I had just presented men- 
tioned something about a little girl, and that I spoke 
about having her christened. He said that in a few 
weeks he was to have a number of children presented 
for baptism, and he would like to have my little girl 
one of the number. I replied, " I would be glad to 
have him christen my little girl, but I was going 
to Albany for a few weeks, and it would be uncer- 
tain if I returned in time for the occasion." ''Well, 
be here and it will be all right." He walked with 
me to show me the church, and then I left New 
York. I remained with my sister a few days, and 
started for Albany, where I rested a few weeks. I 
then returned to New York for the purpose of com^ 
plying with Mr. Beecher's earnest request, for I had 
fully made up my mind to have him christen the 
little girl in preference to any other clergyman. 
The child had just reached her three years as near 
as I could ascertain. The Sabbath came, and we 
reached the church. As soon as the time came for 
recording the name of the child I was shown into a 



1 66 

room for that purpose, and remained until we were 
ushered into the altar of the church, and were last 
in the long row of parents with their children. As 
the children were christened they passed out of the 
altar. I stood alone with the child when Mr. 
Beecher asked if he could take the child on the 
platform ; not knowing what was forthcoming, of 
course, I consented. Mr. B. then presented the 
curse of slavery, that drew within its deadly coil all 
that was beautiful, bright and lovely, and that this 
child would have been its victim had she not been 
rescued by the present effort that was now being 
made by our government for the rights and liberty 
of this oppressed people. Twice his remarks were 
applauded. At the close of the service Mr. B. 
asked the audience for a liberal contribution for the 
education of this child. I waited a suitable time, 
but received no returns ; I called on Mr. B., who 
directed me to the church treasurer. I called, but 
that official told me that they had not all paid in 
their subscription, which I was informed amounted 
to about $1,200. One gentleman informed me that 
he gave $100, but not one dollar ever reached me. 
I was deaconed out of it all. Whoever received 
the benefit of it the public has a right to judge. 
When I returned to Washington, I, as usual, found 
plenty to do. I found that there were two girls 
who claimed to be sisters of my little girl ; but my 
time was too much occupied to look after them for 
the present. 

The committee, of which I was one, thought our 



16; 

sanitary department was getting low ; that if the 
war was going to last another year or more, we 
should be under the necessity of stirring up our 
friends at the North for more goods of the kind 
that had helped so many thousand sufferers among 
our soldiers. While this was in contemplation, I 
started off for Fairfax to find the two girls. The 
one that was ten years old was where I had left her ; 
the poor child was glad to see me. Just at this 
time Gen. E. stepped up to me, and asked, "What 
are you going to do for those girls?" I said, 
'' Where is the other one ? I cannot stay long." 
The sister answered, " She is over beyond Alexan- 
dria on the hill." "Well, I don't think that I could 
get there and back before the hour that the guard 
would refuse to let me pass. I'll go, and if I fail to 
get back, we shall stay in Alexandria." It was 
quite a smart distance, but on we drove, faster and 
faster, until we reached the foot of the high hill. 
" Now, driver, you take the road around and I will 
climb the hill, and get to the house, and -have her 
ready by the time you reach there." I commenced 
my upward, almost perpendicular flight, and 
reached the house in time to have Vianna get her 
few articles of clothing, ready for a flight back to 
Fairfax. We were just in time to get across the 
line, and so got back the same night, feeling that 
we had made a good trip. " Well, general, do you 
think I would make a good soldier? " " Yes, indeed, 
a good lieutenant. I am glad that you are going 
to take those young girls away from this place. 



i68 

They would be ruined if they stayed here. They 
have seen better days, one can judge from their 
appearance. Do you know their ages ? " '' I should 
think lo and 13. If I should live to see the end of 
the war, I should like to have them stay with me ; 
but now, I can only get good places for them in 
Christian families." The gentleman with whom I 
had this conversation was a Christian oi^cer from 
Columbus, Ohio. The next day I started for 
Washington with my charges, and provided a place 
for them to stay until I could get ready for the 
North. Days passed, and the time came for me to 
climb another hill. My family of three children 
were all in readiness. A large brigade was to pass 
through Washington and all were anxious to see 
them pass. I prepared a basket' of fruit for my 
little girl to give to the little drummer boys as they 
were passing by We took our stand in front of 
the '' W^hite House," near the entrance. 

A young man had a stand near us; he asked us 
only his. regular price, but as soon as the soldiers 
asked the price, he charged such enormous rates 
that the boys were at a standstill. I at once 
noticed the salesman's dishonesty, and said, " Boys, 
it is for you ; don't you pay for any thing." In a 
few moments every particle of fruit, cake, lemonade 
and ice water had disappeared. " Oh, lady, for 
what did you do that? " " For your dishonesty I 
did it. Had you charged them for your fruit the 
same that you charged me, I should not have med- 
dled with it, but you, a foreigner, living at your 




Sarah Ann Ayres. 
Age at Time of Adoption, 10 Years. 



169 

ease, and our boys fighting to save our government, 
taking the advantage of them ! Why, in justice I 
should have you taken to jail. Let this be a warn- 
ing to you." 

We left Washington for the North. On reach- 
ing Gunpowder river, about one-half of the bridge 
had been burned. The cars passed over the bridge 
as far as possible, when they came to a halt, and 
the passengers were ordered to get out and travel 
on a pontoon bridge over the other half of the 
river, to take the cars that were in waiting. My 
little girl enjoyed this new way of traveling on the 
pontoon, but the other two were afraid and asked 
me if this was the way the Yankees built bridges, 
and if they had to pass over many such. I said, 
" No, that the pontoon was the result of war; that 
the enemy had burned the bridge to prevent our 
soldiers from crossing." ** Will the Yankees do the 
same to the Southerners?" "They all destroy 
property, the Yankees and Southerners the 
same ; such is the result of war. " Well," spoke 
Sally, '' I have not seen a real Yankee yet ; the 
people I see look nice." '' How did you think they 
would look?" I asked. "Oh, I was told that 
they had horns and looked awful, but I reckon you 
are not a Yankee." " Yes, Sally, I am a Yankee ; 
all the Americans are Yankees. Some day I'll tell 
you how they came by that name." We reached 
Sharon Springs, tired, hungry and dusty. The 
oldest girl remained but a short time, before I found 
a pleasant home for her in the family of J. A. Ram- 



I/O 

sey, at Seneca Falls. Here she was taught every- 
thing useful. Mrs. R. had a governess for her 
daughter, and gave Vianna an opportunity to 
receive a good common education ; not only this, 
but looked well after the girl's spiritual interest. 
Mrs. Ramsey was a member of the Wesley an 
Methodist church. Vianna was baptized and united 
with the church, and was also a member of the 
choir. She was blessed with a very fine voice. 
More of her history in the near future. Sally 
remained at Sharon Springs for a short time, and 
then was taken to my brother's, where she remained 
until I returned from my New England trip. 
I now started, taking my little girl with me. I visited, 
in part, five of the States, and went as far east as 
Bangor, Maine. On my return home, I reached 
Hartford on the 14th of April, when the terrible 
news came of President Lincoln's assassination, and 
that so soon after the close of the war. Now every- 
thing wears a gloomy appearance. We were all so 
happy to hear that Richmond was taken, which 
would close the war, and save precious lives. But 
now, one of the great men of the earth has fallen 
and the whole country is in mourning. Who can 
com.prehend this? Why does the Lord permit it? 
We know not now, but we shall know hereafter. 
I returned to New York State to look after my 
girl, for whom I had not provided a perma- 
nent home. I said, " Sally, I think of an acquaint- 
ance in Massachusetts who I think would take you 
and send you to school. Your chance here is not 



I/I 

Avhat I would like to have it. Would you like to. 
go?" ''Yes, if you think best." ''Well, then, I'll 
get you ready at once." So all necessary arrange- 
ments were made and off we started for Boston, 
where we stayed until the next morning. After 
breakfast we left for Lexington, where the family 
resided. They were willing to take her and have 
her taught in the seminary, but all the classes were 
above elementary, so that there was no class that 
she could enter. She was taught evenings, and did 
service through the day, amply paying for her 
board and schooling, which I did not object to for 
the present. But I must try and get some one who 
will give her at least a common education. 

I am thoroughly tired in mind and body. Now 
that the war is over I'll have one good rest. I'll go^ 
to Titusville to visit my sister, whom I have not 
seen since before the war. So off I started Avith 
my little girl, and soon reached Titusville, Pa. I 
found my friends well and had a happy time and a 
good rest. I shall spend the winter in visiting my 
relatives and old friends, some of whom I have not 
met for a number of years. I am sorry to part 
with the Eastmans, for I have enjoyed my rest and 
improved in health. My next stopping place will 
be Norwalk, Ohio, to visit the lady who rendered 
me so much kindness in one of my hospitals at 
Washington, while her husband was Congressman.. 
Although I started for Farmington, Illinois, I had 
many friends on my way westward. I reached 
Norwalk on Saturday and had a pleasant Sabbath 



1/2 

with my friend, and attended the Episcopal church 
and addressed their Sabbath-school. I left on 
Monday and stopped at Oberlin to ascertain if 
there was a possibility of getting my girls in school 
on reasonable terms, but I failed in this, for the 
school was already flooded. I proceeded on my 
journey, stopped over night in Detroit and took an 
early train for Chicago. There was an accident 
ahead of us that detained us at Ashtabula for three 
hours. While we were waiting there, two gentle- 
men came into the car ; every seat was occupied ; 
my little girl was asleep opposite me. I awoke her 
and placed her in with me, and gave them the 
seat. My little lady was greatly offended and said 
those gentlemen disturbed her very much, by tak- 
ing her bed away. Just then a boy came in crying 
apples. *' Oh, will you get me an apple ? " '* Yes, 
wait until he gets here." The gentlemen asked the 
boy how much he wanted for the apples he had left. 
'^ Now he has taken all the apples, too," she said. 
"Go and give those apples to the little girl," said 
the gentleman. " Oh, just see here, how many 
apples I have." " Well, what are you going to do 
with them?" said I. "Eat them?" "No, not 
yet." "Oh, shall I thank him?" "Certainly." 
"Then can I eat them?" "No, you cannot." 
^' Shall I tell him I am sorry I was so cross because 
I had to give up my seat?" "Yes, and ask them to 
take some of the apples he so kindly gave you." 
This settled the trouble with her. She became 
very much interested in her new acquaintance, and 



1/3 

asked him if he had a little girl at home. He told 
her no, but he had a little boy. When we 
reached Chicago we were two hours late for 
the train I had intended to take. This gentle- 
man introduced himself as Mr. Whiting, of Chicago. 
As I was a stranger in the city, and would 
like to take an early train, he said he would be 
happy to entertain us at his house until time for 
the train. My wife, he said, will join me in an ac- 
quaintance. The walk from the street cars is just 
across the park. This was preferable to going to a 
hotel. I accepted the offer. After quite a long ride 
in the street cars, we reached the house and met a 
beautiful lady at the door, who made us very wel- 
come. Being very weary from my long journey, I 
retired for a little rest, after which I felt quite 
refreshed, and ready to enjoy a beautiful dianer,. 
which was served at two o'clock. 

The little boy, of ten years, and Virga, were not 
long in becoming acquainted. The lady was a 
Cuban by birth. Mr. Whiting married her when 
he was sent to Cuba by the government. She was 
an accomplished lady. I was well pleased v/ith my 
new acquaintances; I usually find agreeable com- 
pany when traveling. One can select very soon, by 
close observation, the class you wish. We had a. 
fine rest, and left the next morning for Farming- 
ton. Mr. Whiting accompanied us to the depot. 
We left on the eight o'clock A. M. train and reached 
Farmington at eleven o'clock P. M. At nearly mid- 
night we reached the home of my dear old friends. 



174 

;and rang the bell. The answer came slow. " Who 
can it be at this late hour.^ Ask before you open 
the door — it may be that some one is sick. Who 
is there?" "A friend." ''Who?" "Lawrence, 
don't give up the ship." ^' Well, then, you will give 
yourself up." We were almost pulled into a warm 
room, and after a warm greeting and a quick, short 
visit, we retired for the rest of the night. 

I am sure I shall return to the old Empire State 
renewed, for here I am, regaining my health and 
strength far beyond my expectations. This is too 
good to last. Virga has a fine voice for a little girl, 
and sings beautifully, and I'll finish her in the rudi- 
ments of music, with her other lessons. The Sab- 
bath came, and all must go to church, which was 
near by. After service was the Sabbath-school. 
Mr. B. proposed to have Virga sing one of her Sab- 
bath school hymns, which she did. After the 
school closed the minister wanted her to sing again. 
She sang a few more. He then asked her who 
taught her to sing. She said her mother, " Well, 
if your mother can teach you to sing like that, she 
can teach our daughters to sing." It seems quite 
evident that there will be another hill to climb in 
this prairie country. One call after another seems 
to come to me unsought. They said, " We will get 
up a large class for you if you will teach one term. 
The chapel of the Congregational church is at your 
service. It has two large blackboards, and can be 
well warmed. "Yes, I'll try it." Teach singing 
school ! That is a new business for me. I wonder 



175 

what next ; I ran away from teaching, but it faces 
me, go where I may. The number of scholars on 
the Hst was fifty-two. The notice was given and a 
singing class was opened. It was a day singing 
school of girls and boys, ranging in age from 6 
to 1 8. I classed them according to age and com- 
menced my work, and was more successful than I 
anticipated at the opening. Before we finished the 
term a concert was spoken of by the scholars, and 
as soon as the school closed every thing pointed in 
the direction of a concert. Sacred pieces were 
selected and practised, also the most popular war 
songs were in readiness. A queen of May was 
selected for the occasion. Every one was engaged 
to do something to make it a success, which, indeed, 
it proved to be. Twenty-five of the small boys and 
girls performed the " Rally Around the Flag." 
Each one had a small banner. They marched 
around the desk, the platform was large enough to 
give them plenty of room. This performance was 
very beautiful, with corresponding costume. I had 
two classes out of the city, one five miles out, in a 
country school-house, and one two miles out, in an 
opposite direction. I was urged to have the second 
class of young people in the city, but this was to 
be an evening class, to which I objected. 

I have just received a letter from my friend, Mrs. 
Worcester, of Norwalk, to make her a visit on my 
return to New York. Soon I shall leave my dear 
old eastern friends in Farmington forever — Mr. 
and Mrs. Budd. I have known them from child- 



176 

hood ; they were close friends in my father's family. 
Also one of my early scholars, the Deyos, one 
family living five miles out of the city, where I had 
a pleasant visit. There was an incident occurred 
while I was staying at their house, which I must 
relate. Mr. Deyo wanted me and my little girl to 
stay with his wife and the two young girls while he 
went to Schoharie to visit his aged mother. About 
this time there was an excitement in that vicinity 
about the " Kentucky Demon," who was supposed 
to come in a hideous form. He was also called the 
Kentucky gentleman. The three little girls had 
retired and we were alone in the parlor. After a 
while Mrs. Deyo went through the' kitchen into the 
pantry. She came back frightened almost into a 
fainting fit. '* Oh, Miss Lawrence, the Kentucky 
demon stood by the pantry window, what shall I 
do?" " Don't be frightened," I said; " I'll go and 
see him too. Are your outside doors locked ? " 
''I don't know." " I'll go and see." I fastened the 
d^or and then went into the pantry, but found no 
traces of the Kentucky gentleman. I said to her, 
'' Don't you think that it may have been your reflec- 
tion in the glass, the night is so very dark?" " Oh, 
I was so frightened, I cannot say ; I surely saw the 
image of a human being at the window." " Well, 
he is locked out, and if he comes in he will have to 
come through the keyhole, and if he does, I'll put 
him out ; now let us give up the search. I am 
more afraid of the gray wolves that are howling 
around here at night ; I am afraid to go out at 
night." 



177 

The time is nearing for me to start toward home, 
but one more visit is in anticipation. Mrs. B.'s 
adopted daughter, living in Bloomington, will won- 
der why I don't come to see her, now that I am so 
near. I think she will hardly know me ; she was 
quite a little girl when she left New York. I'll 
make that my last visit in Illinois. Mr. Deyo re- 
turned from the east and I went to prepare for my 
homeward journey. I went to Galesburg, after bid- 
ding adieu to my friends in Farmington, and spent 
the night at Rev. E. Beecher's and left the next 
morning for Bloomington. I spent a pleasant 
week in this town, at Mr. Rood's. When I left 
Mr. Deyo's at Farmington, he prepared a basket 
and three little chickens in it for little Virga to take 
home. To travel a thousand miles, with the care of 
three extra pets, was quite a charge for me. But 
one died at Bloomington, notwithstanding they 
were put out through the day and well cared for. 
Mr. and Mrs. Rood accompanied me to the cars, 
and as we came near, we heard singing. Mr. R. 
asked me which car I wished. The singing car of 
course. I bade my friends good-bye and entered 
l1i2 car, which had few passengers. We had been 
seated but a few moments, when a gentleman 
stepped up to me to shake hands, and said, "You 
don't know me, do you ? " " No, sir." " At a Sab- 
bath-school convention at B. ?" ''Oh, yes, I do 
remember, now." '' Did you know the Evangelist 
Hammons, who is pretty well represented in this 
State ? " ''I heard of him when he held a series of 
12 



178 

meetings at Peoria." " He is in this car with his 
bride on his way to Rockport city. Would you like 
an introduction ?" *'Yes." After the usual cere- 
mony, I was asked if I were on my way to the Sab- 
bath-school convention at Rockport city. I said, 
" No, I am on my way to New York." '' Would 
you like to attend the convention, also Mr. K.'s 
meeting?" ''Yes, but that will detain me a week 
longer. How far from Chicago is it to Rockford 
city?" "About eighty miles. If you would like 
to go, you . may go as a delegate, at half fare." 
" Well, I am in good company." I accepted the offer. 
I changed cars at Chicago, and had my baggage re- 
checked for Rockford city, sure of an all-night's ride 
with a little girl and two chickens to care for. We 
reached the place just before»daylight, went to the 
hotel and gave the chicks in care of the landlord, 
with orders to call me at seven o'clock for break- 
fast. At nine o'clock we were called upon to go to 
the church to receive my stopping place during the 
convention. Then I returned to the hotel for my 
young family, and was conveyed to Mr. V.'s. I 
rang the bell, and was very pleasantly Avelcomed. 
But the lady said, " I was to have four guests.; I 
wonder if they will come " " Oh, yes, Mrs. V., 
they are here." "Where?" "In that basket." 
Which was opened and out came the little prisoners, 
happy to enjoy their freedom once more. Grandma 
took charge of them and put them into their 
beautiful yard of evergreens and strawberry vines. 
The convention was very interesting, but Mr. Ham- 



179 

mons' meeting much more entertaining, and many 
were brought to know the preciousness of a new 
life, not children only, but adults. And here I 
found an old friend, Mrs. W., the daughter of the 
minister who was my first spiritual teacher. 

This was a very unexpected meeting and a 
pleasant one. It occurred just on the eve of my 
leaving Rockford city. Next morning I left for 
the East ; only one more stopping-place ; I am 
homesick to see the mountains of my native State. 
I am not long in getting back to Norwalk, Ohio, 
with my little family of a little girl and two 
chickens. This will be a resting place for one week, 
then I must return home to find a place, if possible, 
where I can have the other two girls attend school 
together and have them with me. They have been 
separated the most of the time since they left 
Washington. I consulted Mrs. Worcester concern- 
ing this matter ; I gave her a correct description of 
the girl as being very handsome and intelligent. 
She concluded to take her as her own and educate 
her. Oh, what a relief this was to me ! Here she 
was to have a lovely home where she would not be 
exposed to evil influences. Her present home was 
not such as I had hoped for ; her education was neg- 
lected and her servitude was beyond her years. 
This removed a burden from me. One good home 
for the poor lonely orphans. Vianna, the other 
girl, is doing well for the present. I remained in 
this noble family over a week. In the meantime a 
fine entertainment was given for me. Virga's 



i8o 

chickens were given for a remembrance to the 
judge, and he, in return, made her a fine present. 
This family were formerly from Massachusetts, and 
expected to return in the near future. I left with 
brighter prospects for the present, but how little we 
know of the future. I had a friend to consult in 
whom I had confidence, and was feeling better able 
to battle with coming events. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

I was on my way to Adams, Jefferson county. A 
gentleman asked me if I was on my way to confer- 
ence. I said, *' No, sir ; I am on my way to Adams." 
*' Conference is in session at that place," he replied. 
Then I said, '' Do you expect a new appointment?" 
" No," he said, " my appointment is more perma- 
nent ; I have charge of Falley Seminary." " I had 
heard quite often of the school, and I should- be 
glad to see it if I had time ; I may send a pupil ; 
at present my time is fully occupied," " Well," he 
said, ''give me a call before you go elsewhere." 

We are at our stopping-place. Mr. and Mrs. 
Burchard I found well and glad to meet me. 
Mrs. B. was very much interested in the little girl's 
singing. Here I had an urgent invitation to give a 
lecture on the war. Conference held its sessions 
most of the time in the Presbyterian church, it 
being larger than the Methodist Episcopal church, 
but both churches were used during conference. 
Mr. B. had his pupil ready for her part, and the ap- 



I8i 

pointment was made for meeting in the Presbyterian 
church at two P. M. Conference adjourned for the 
occasion. The house was filled, every inch of it, 
I had never before addressed such a body of gentle- 
manly-looking clergymen. While Mr. Burchard was 
speaking and the little girl of five years old, stand- 
ing on the table singing, I took a view of the large 
audience before me ; I thought, Miss L., you have 
a steep hill to climb this time, but Lawrence must 
not give up the ship now. My time came, I was at 
home with my friends, I had nothing to fear. I was 
engaged in a good cause, and the Lord will always 
help us when we are helping those who need our 
help. We can always find some one to encourage 
us by word or deed. If we are laboring for the 
good of some poor soul and the glory of God, we 
shall have our reward. I remained with my friends 
during conference, and, with them, was invited to 
dine with the bishop and his staff at Mrs. S.'s ; and 
also with the same party at Mr. Burchard's. There 
was a very friendly feeling between the different 
churches, for which, I think, Adams is noted. I feel 
an attachment for Jefferson county. It was there 
where I first commenced my public temperance 
labors, and I often think of this people as zealous 
workers in the reforms of the day. At this time of 
my short stay at Adams, I was invited to give an- 
other lecture at Watertown. Mr. B. accompanied 
me ; my little girl sang a number of war songs. 
She had a remarkably strong, yet sweet voice, and 
performed her part finely. An engagement was 



l82 

made by one of the clergymen at the conference 
for me to speak at Potsdam, but the inclemency of 
the season prevented me from going. 

At this time I began to feel weary. When I take 
a view of the past, from my childhood up to the 
present, my life has been one continual scene of 
excitement. There was one character pointed out 
by the Saviour that I always tried to shun. That 
was the hypocrite. The amount of iniquity 
practiced under an assumed name, I abhor. I 
have frequently been told that I was too much 
outspoken and made enemies. This was often said 
at the time I worked in the temperance reform. I 
am apt to call things by their right names. With a 
certain class this will not be well received. I have 
no wish to become popular through deceit. I once 
gave a lecture, that was cutting, on immorality, at 
which a young man took offense and said more than 
the law would allow him. I was urged to take the 
matter in hand, but I chose my own way of doing 
it, which I'll have inserted, if I have not lost the 
poem. 

On my way back to Seneca Falls, I called at Fal- 
ley Seminary. The professor made me a liberal 
offer, if I saw fit to have one or more of the chil- 
dren enter at any time I w^as ready to accept, but 
about this time, I received a letter from Mrs. W. of 
Ohio, stating that a friend of hers had been to 
Lexington after Sallie, but the doctor and his wife 
would not let her go, saying that she belonged to 
them. There was no papers of any kind whereby 



i83 

they could hold the child, but I should not have 
thought of removing her, if they had done accord- 
ing to agreement. I had no objection to her mak^ 
ing herself useful, but I objected to having her in 
continual servitude, and thereby neglecting almost 
wholly her education. For this reason I would 
have her removed to where she would be cared for 
and treated as a member of the family. I wanted 
Vianna and Sallie to attend school together, and 
had already made preparation for this at Falley 
Seminary. Vianna was already at school, and the 
little one was too young to go to school, but was 
taught at home. Vianna was improving finely and 
would have finished her education here, but for the 
interference of outsiders. There was a school 
teacher who had an insane brother who could not 
be left alone and needed close attention. This 
teacher and another woman had taken advantage of. 
my absence and almost persuaded the young girl to 
take a position so dangerous and improper. On 
my return, Vianna informed me of the new project. 
" Well, do you want to go ? " • " No, I don't want to 
go and take care of a crazy man. I am afraid of 
crazy people." ^' On what terms will she take you ? " 
I asked. '' She will hear my lessons evenings, and 
I am to help do her work." Just then came two 
ladies for a call ; the wife of the principal being 
one ; they made a short call. Vianna says, " Miss 
Lawrence, those are the two ladies that wanted me 
to take care of that one lady's brother." " Why 
did they not ask me about your going?" "They 



i84 

came to get me to go, I think, not knowing that 
you were here." *' Well, would you have gone in 
my absence ? " " No, indeed ; I said when they 
were here before, that you would not consent to 
my going." " Well, Vianna, I think we shall leave 
here, if this is the way matters are working. I am 
not willing to have you go to school here any 
longer. The movement of these two callers is thor- 
oughly crazy, one that would endanger your life, 
and perhaps, what would be worse, your morals. 
I'll have you go back to Mrs. Ramsey's for the 
present. I have a mind to buy a place at M. where 
I have just been, and after I get settled and rested, 
I'll see tnat you have another chance at school, but 
under the present circumstances you cannot stay 
here. The idea of having a young girl take care of 
a crazy man and drudge all day, and they only hear 
your lesson in the evening! I call that slavery in 
the first degree. Now, you pack your trunk and 
get ready to go." She went to Seneca Falls, and I 
and my little girl to Mexico, where I purchased a 
cottage and an acre of ground, which was well sup- 
plied with fruit. Here we had plenty to do. It 
was early spring, quite a little time before I could 
make improvements or make a garden, but the time 
came at last, and work commenced, the ground was 
made ready for planting, and a clergyman living in 
the country near by supplied me with garden seeds. 
But I do not know how to make a garden. I'll 
watch and see my neighbors work ; but my near 
neighbors had already made theirs. Just then 



185 

came a heavy rain followed by a cold spell. I think 
my garden will have to stay over until another 
year. But soon prospects began to brighten; the 
weather began to get warm and there was every 
indication of a prosperous fruitful season, but too 
late for my garden, I thought. 

One day my next door neighbor came in, saying, 
" Miss Lawrence, I have brought you a present ; 
come and see." On going to the front door I saw a 
carriage. I expected a package. I stepped to the 
carriage, and, behold ! a living package met me. 
My sister! a joyful meeting. She came to spend 
the summer. Now I shall have some one to show 
me about the garden. My neighbor said that the 
people who occupied the place before me never had 
a garden. ''Well, I'll try it ; my sister understands 
the business, and we'll have one." I had the 
ground prepared ; this was the first of June. Those 
that had their gardens made before the cold rain 
were almost a total loss, and mine, that was delayed 
for want of knowledge to do the work, paid well 
for being late. Every thing that was put into the 
ground yielded plentifully ; flowers bloomed in 
the front yard. This was a pleasant home. A 
letter comes from Lexington, Mass., stating that 
Sallie was sick and wanted to come with me for the 
summer; the doctor thought the sea breeze in-, 
jurious for her, as her lungs were in a bad condi- 
tion. Certainly she can come. The doctor's wife 
came part way with her and then left her to go to 
Mr. Ramsey's to meet her sister, who was staying 



186 

there. She stayed with her a few weeks before she 
was able to come to Mexico. She was well cared 
for by Mrs. R., and hopes were entertained for her 
final recovery when she and her sister started for 
my house. They arrived in safety, but very much 
fatigued. The family were together once more. 
Vianna and Sallie had not met each other since 
they came North four years ago. They had a 
pleasant time while they were together. Vianna 
enjoyed her visit and returned to Seneca Falls. 
Sallie remained until late in the fall. She said to 
me, " I would like to go back to Lexington ; that 
is my home." "Why, Sallie, why not stay here ?" 
''Well, I would rather go back." I saw that her 
mind was fully made up to go back. I made 
preparations to take her back, and in a few days 
we started ; we reached Albany before dark, stopped 
at my brother's until ten o'clock, then took the 
palace car for Boston. She rested well during the 
night, and directly after breakfast we took the train 
for Lexington, reaching there before noon. The 
seminary had, a short time previous, been burned. 
Of this I was not aware until I reached the place. 
The school was removed to another locality. I re- 
mained until the second day. As I was making 
preparations to leave, the doctor asked me to take 
a walk. I said, '' Yes ; a short one, for I must start 
for home to-day." We had gone but a short dis- 
tance when he said, " You must take Sallie back 
with you." "Take her back ; for what ? " "Well, 
she is consumptive and we can't have her die here." 



i87 

"You contemptible villain; how dare you spealc 
like that about the poor child. Don't I know how 
you refused to let Mrs. Worcester have her. There 
she would have been treated as their own daughter 
and educated. You told the person who came 
after her that she belonged to you. Did you not 
promise me that she should be taught at the semi- 
nary, but instead of that, you had her stand behind 
your chair, to come and go at your bidding, and to- 
day she can hardly read or write. I'll give you to 
understand that I did not bring those children from 
the South to be slaves at the North. They are or-, 
phans but not friendless and are children of good 
ancestors. If they had a drop of African blood,, 
their honest and upright principles would cast such 
as you into total darkness ; besides you have those 
in your family, who, had they been South before 
the war would have been put upon the auction 
block. As long as Sallie was able to do your bid- 
ding, you were ready to keep her. As soon as her 
health fails, you cast her off, and that, after she was 
offered one of the best homes that could possibly be 
had." This debate occurred during our walk, which 
came to an end very shortly. Thus ended my first 
controversy with Dr. Lewis, of Lexington fame. I 
went to Boston to ascertain if there was any hope 
in the case of the young girl. My little girl was. 
with me, and from the previous excitement, the 
child began to cry. The doctor saw her and said to 
her, " What is the matter, little girl ? Come here to 
me." " Tell me, can you help my sister? " '' Cer- 



talnly," he said, " if it is in my power, with God's 
blessing." Then he inquired into all her symp- 
toms, age, etc. He said her case was doubtful, but 
he would take her and do all in his power, if Dr. 
Lewis would sign a paper that the girl was incura- 
ble. My pent-up feelings gave way. I wept like a 
■child, and finally we all three were weeping. I re- 
turned to Lexington, and gave the paper to Dr. 
Lewis, who refused to sign it, consequently the lit- 
tle girl's doom was sealed. I left for home and in 
a few weeks I had a letter from Mrs. Ramsey, that 
Vianna had been sent for to come immediately, for 
her sister was in a dying condition, and Vianna was 
already there. In a short time another message 
•came that Sallie was dead and buried, and she, Mrs. 
Ramsey, should look for Vianna's return home very 
soon. She did not come, but, instead, came a long 
letter from Dr. Lewis, that he thought of adopting 
Vianna. He would give her a finished education 
and she should associate with the best in the land, 
and should travel with him and have all the ac- 
complishments that were necessary. 

Mrs. Ramsey thought this a good opportunity 
for Vianna, and said that she would not stand in 
the way of her improvement. But I asked, " Why 
■did not Sallie have just a small share of all that?" 
Poor child that she was, she had to trudge through 
the deep snow in winter to a public school, and it 
M^as in this way that she took cold, Avhich was one 
of the causes of her death. She was neglected and 
has gone to a premature grave. I say again, why 



1^9 

was not she adopted and given all those advan- 
tages? She was just as beautiful, and more so, than 
Vianna. We will keep an eye out and see if 
there is not a selfish motive in all this. Why all 
the fair promises were not fulfilled in the case 
of the beautiful, loving and obedient Sallie,. 
will be answered at the day of judgment. I 
am glad there will be a day when all things 
shall be made right. It is a happy thought, 
that the poor departed child is adopted, not by 
mortals, but by her heavenly Father, who has given 
her a home far above that which earth can give. 
The eldest and youngest are to struggle for life, 
and what will be their lot is yet to be realized. It 
is a blessing that we do not know what is in store 
for us in the future. It comes too soon and oftea 
finds us unprepared to meet it. We need the pres- 
ence and aid of our divine Saviour every moment. 
But a short time, perhaps a year, after this I 
called at Mrs. Ramsey's and to my happy surprise 
I met Dr. Lewis' adopted daughter. I was de- 
lighted to see her. She was apparently happy and 
very well-dressed. I asked her, " How long since 
you left Lexington?" " Oh, I am not there now; 
I am staying with Grandma Lewis." I replied, ''I 
know Mrs. Lewis. Did you attend school at Lex- 
ington?" ^' No ; only a short time; they had me 
come to Auburn to stay with the old lady." " How 
much of a family is there?" "Oh, the family i^ 
small ; the old lady's niece is there and goes to 
school." ''What is your work?" ''I do house- 



190 

"work and sewing and whatever is necessary." " And 
what is your wages ? " "Nothing." "And how is 
it that they call you Mary Lewis?" "I write my 
name Mary Ayers Lewis." " Did the doctor have 
your name changed lawfully ; that is, did he take 
papers and have it rightly confirmed according to 
law?" "Oh, no; nothing like that." "Well, Vi- 
anna, unless they send you to school and treat you 
as a daughter I shall take the matter in hand. You 
are not entitled, by law, to one cent of his property. 
He is a fraud, and has failed in every point, in ful- 
filling the promises in his letter, of which I have a 
copy. He held Sallie as a servant, and that with- 
out pay, and has taken you under false pretense. 
Instead of taking you as a daughter, to be edu- 
cated, and travel and be introduced into the best 
Society, he has taken you as a slave ; he sends 3'^ou 
to take care of his aged mother, to relieve him of 
the burden. Now, Vianna, if you do not attend 
school at once — no putting off — I'll raise a breeze 
that will equal a cyclone. You are now almost or 
■quite eighteen years old, and if you ever expect to 
have an education it is time to attend to it." Soon 
after this I heard that Vianna was attending school 
and getting along nicely. 

A year or more passed and all went on as usual. 
I rented my place in Mexico and located in Seneca 
Falls. This was the first year that my little girl 
went to school. I had taught her at home. She 
entered the department next to the highest in the 
academy and made fine, progress. In January v/e 



191 

received word that Vianna was very sick and her 
recovery doubtful. We hastened at once to Auburn 
to see her. She had a bad cough and every indica- 
tion of a speedy death. All remedies seemed 
useless, as there were no changes for the better. 
Her food did not seem to benefit her. After a time 
her cough abated somewhat, and then a change for 
the better gave us hopes of her ultimate recovery. 
The weeks came and went with but little change for 
the better. But it came at last. The month of 
March, that terrible one of the whole year, will give 
her a trying time. But she passed through, gaining 
slowly. I had charge of her for three months, and 
although a sacrifice to me, I had the pleasure of 
seeing her on the way to recovery. I met her dis- 
tinguished adopted father before I left, and there 
were two icebergs met v/ithout sufficient sunshine 
to melt them. Lawrence knew that she was right 
and would not '' give up the ship." If I had not 
looked after the interests of those orphan chil- 
dren they would have had a hard time ; they passed 
through hardships at the best. 

Vianna's recovery was of short duration ; she 
caught a new cold in May and it never left her. 
She lingered until September and left this world of 
trials for a better inheritance. As long as she was 
living at Mrs. Ramsey's she enjoyed excellent 
health. Southern-born children, not being accus- 
tomed to our climate, need constant watching until 
they become acclimated. I always watched my 
little girl, and the first appearance of a cold was 



192 

never neglected. I have not to regret that I ever 
neglected her. 

Trials, sickness and death will come notwith- 
standing all that we can do, and all that we love on 
earth will soon pass away. My little girl felt very 
bad when the last sister was gone. Mr. Ramsey's 
carriage, with two members of his family, myself 
and little girl attended the funeral. The ''Good 
Templars," of which Vianna was an official, 
attended in a body. The services were im- 
pressive. We returned home with sad hearts. 
I was fearful that the next in the near future would 
be the little one, but her health was good and with 
good care I may be happily disappointed. How 
many mourn the loss of children, when it may be 
the greatest mercy that they have gone so early. 

I feel a strong attachment for my poor little lone 
one. But this she probably does not realize now, 
as she will be likely to in coming years, should she 
live. I do not wish the two sisters back again. 
They are free from toil and care ; they are where 
the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are 
as rest ; they were of French and Yankee blood. 
The Bible says that all nations were made of one 
blood, and it furthermore says there will be 
gathered together all nations, kindreds, tongues and 
people. There will be no distinction. The Saviour 
when on earth chose the poor. You will see many 
Mary Magdalens and some, and I doubt not 
many, very many black angels in the kingdom, and 
you yourselves thrust out, and the black angel may 



193 

be the first one that you will call on to bring a drop 
of water to cool your parched tongue. No doubt 
there will be many a Lazarus in heaven, and many 
despisers of the Lord Jesus will take their place 
with Dives. If those who profess Godliness would 
take the Bible for their guide, there would not be 
so much ignorance concerning those matters. A 
lady who had been a professor of religion for a long 
time said to me one day, '' Miss L., how is it that 
the Bible doesn't speak of praying?" ''Of pray- 
ing?" said I, with astonishment. ''Yes," she said, 
*' I never read any. thing about praying." "Then 
you never read your Bible. LU tell you the one 
great trouble with you, is the reading of those 
miserable yellow-covered novels, and all novels are 
messengers of evil ; it takes all your leisure time to 
read them. They are the gods you worship, and 
they will lead you to temporal and eternal ruin." 
" Oh, now, you are too bad," she said. " What ! 
too bad when I tell you the truth. I am doing my 
duty. Now read your Bible, t/iat will tell you that 
you cannot serve God and Mammon." " Why, do 
you think I'll be lost?" "I do, unless you repent 
and be converted, as the Bible teaches." How the 
matter ended with her I cannot say, but this is not 
a solitary case ; too many have more novels than 
Bibles. 

Some have a very expensive Bible in their parlors 
for an ornament, but never read it, as if that would 
be their salvation. I have been pleasantly informed 
13 



194 

by many of my friends that I was too outspoken, 
but I believe in calling things by their right names. 
I do not believe in putting a silver covering over 
spoiled meat. But I have charity for the helpless 
ones. Too often a poor person takes an improper 
step ; and those who have to struggle through un- 
seen trials are censured by those who know nothing 
of the hardships of life. There is a case that I am 
too well acquainted with to be mistaken. It was 
this: A young woman had an abandoned husband ; 
he eloped with another man's wife ; of course, the 
lawful wife had no trouble in getting a bill. A 
gentleman says to me, '' Do you know that there 
are unfavorable reports about her character?" " I 
do not ; can you tell me what they are?" ''No; 
I cannot." ''Well, sir, there were bad reports about 
your wife before you married her; can you tell me 
what they were, and do you believe them?" No 
answer. 

The Saviour, when called upon to judge a woman 
for a serious crime, said to her accusers, " Let him 
that is without sin cast the first stone." How true 
it is that many people are ready to accuse others, 
when they themselves are guilty of the same sin. 
The time is not far distant when the final acco-unt 
will come, and be sure that the Judge of all the 
earth will do right. If many of the accusers of 
the present day were called upon to cast the first 
stone, there would be a stir to seek a hiding-place. 
They forget that there is a recording ang"el taking 
note of unrepented sins. Read your Bible ; the 



195 

New Testament is all that is necessary to teach us 
our duty and regulate our lives. 

Thus far I have given the sunny part of my life. 
I have passed over much that might interest some 
of my friends of the present day, but the friends of 
my youth and middle age have mostly passed away. 
My father's family have all gone long ago. My 
army hospital life has left its mark upon me. I re- 
ceive a small remuneration, for which I am thank- 
ful, but not sufficient for the demands of my ad- 
vancing years. 

The little one that I adopted and educated, mar- 
ried one whom I opposed, knowing his reckless life 
rendered him wholly unfit for one like her. When 
sick and among strangers he deserted her and an 
infant daughter and eloped with a woman, who left 
her husband and two small children. My three lit- 
tle Southern children are all laid away, for which I 
thank my heavenly Father. They have just gone 
before me ; I know now where they are, and soon I 
shall meet them beyond the reach of their perse- 
cutors. The one poor child, the double orphan, is 
left to grapple with the world, unprotected and un- 
provided for, only as far as the small savings of her 
mother's hard labor will go. May God sustain the 
poor child, left at an age when a mother's care is 
most needed. Oh, ye daughters of wealth and 
pleasure, does not this speak to you to open your 
hearts and hands, to work in the capacity of the 
good Samaritan, and with faith and charity, dis- 
pense of your abundance among the worthy chil- 



196 

dren of misfortune, and when the Lord shall come 
to judge the world, He will say, " Forasmuch as ye 
have done it unto the least of these, ye have done 
it unto Me, enter into the joy of your Lord." 

Now comes my life among the aged. There were 
to be eleven vacancies by death, before I could 
enter. 

About this time the newspapers were advertising 
that all the first nurses of the late war were to re- 
ceive a pension of $25 and $20 a month ; that is, 
those who served from one to two years. I was 
one of the first and served all through the war. I 
wrote to Washington. The answer came that I 
should do all that I could, and that Mrs. C. would 
work for me there. I wrote to her that my papers 
were on file at the capital and I wished her to go 
there and get them. I heard no more about my 
pension at that time. In a short time I received a 
letter asking me to return to Albany (I had gone 
for a few weeks to a neighboring town) at once, as 
there was a room in readiness for me at the 
" Home." Well, I thought there must have been 
an epidemic to take so many in so short a time. I 
had supposed that it would be at least two years 
before eleven would die. I had a mind not to an- 
swer the call, but I came and was accompanied to 
the '^ Home." The room was shown me, but it 
had an unhealthy air. I asked if the walls had been 
whitewashed. They said no — the room had been 
shut up, which gave it an unpleasant air. 

A few days after this, I entered my new home, 



197 

and in a short time I became restless, nights ; some- 
thing unusual for me. On close examination, I 
found some small insects that I did not care to 
have for company. By perseverance I soon got rid 
of them. Another thing, I was not permitted to 
have a light in my room, had gas-lights in the hall, 
where we could sit, but had to take the draught ; 
I tried it and took a very bad cold ; another attempt 
ended in sickness. There was plenty of food pro- 
vided, but it was badly prepared. At one time I 
noticed on the kitchen table lay a pile of nice quar- 
ters of lamb. Now, I thought, we shall have a good 
dinner. But, alas ! it came on the table hard and 
dry. The potatoes, as usual, came dressed in their 
skins, which made it difficult to tell the good from 
the bad. It is a fact that a large share of the 
potatoes that came on the table were not fit to eat. 
I could stand this no longer. I said to the matron 
that it was not safe to eat those potatoes ; that by 
cutting the ends she could tell the good from the 
bad ; that it would certainly create an epidemic. 
This was done for a short time, then the old prac- 
tice was resumed. The bread had a peculiar taste. 
The coffee did very well. The tea I seldom drank. 
However, I fared very well. I had friends who 
supplied my wants, and more than I could possibly 
use myself. My cousin, Mrs. Peter Sandhovel, 
from Mexico, Oswego county, sent me a basket 
that I could scarcely carry to my room, filled with 
good things of the earth. Miss Amelia Cook was 
another who came semi-monthly to supply my 



198 

wants ; and others, too numerous to mention, re- 
membered me kindly. I did not forget the poor 
friends around me, who were less fortunate. I 
would sometimes, and, indeed, quite often, step 
across the hall and make a couple of beds ; one was 
occupied by Miss Brown and the other by Miss 
Lansing. In making the bed of Miss B.'s I found 
a number of bugs ; the next time that I made it I 
found them more numerous. I said, " Mandy, do 
you sleep Avell nights?" '*Yes, pretty well." I 
made another search ; took up a large under pillow, 
with a casing, and beheld a regiment. Oh, my ! 
how could you sleep ? I opened the window and 
cast it into the back yard, and called the matron. 
She said to me, " Did you cast that pillow into the 
yard?" ''I did, for your inspection; and in that 
dish there is a regiment of over thirty having a 
fine swim." '' Well," she said, '' Miss Lansing has 
brought them into the house." Said I, ''That can't 
be possible, for she has been here but a few days ; 
and those in the swim are old customers, from 
great-grandfathers down to the fourth generation." 
Miss Lawrence exit. I went to my room. Here 
is another hill to climb, but " Lawrence won't give 
up the ship." The dear old lady next door to Miss 
B.'s says to me, " Miss Lawrence, I cannot sleep ; 
there is something disturbs me." ^' Speak to the 
matron," I said. " I am afraid to." I said, '' Speak 
to her; she will see what is the matter with you." 
Miss Lansing was assigned to the third floor, a per- 
secuted person. There was trouble again ; her bed 



199 

was hard and untidy, and the same trouble that 
afflicted Miss B. and her neighbor. I could stand 
it no longer. I said to her, " Miss Lansing, you 
have influential friends living in Albany ; I shall 
call upon them and have them see that you have 
better treatment." I set out and saw a lady who 
responded at once, and Miss Lansing had better 
accommodations, but still had enough to contend 
with until her death. 

There was a funeral at the " Home." The inmates, 
as usual, took their seats in the corridor. There 
were a few of us who always occupied the sofa near 
the parlor door. At this time there was room for one 
or two more. I happened to see Miss Lansing sitting 
in the draught, and knowing that she had a bad 
cough, I stepped up and invited her to take a seat 
with me out of the draught, which she did gladly. 
After service, and the people had left, the matron 
asked me if I had invited Miss L. to a seat on the 
sofa? I said, ''Certainly." "Well," she said, 
" don't you do that again." " Yes, I shall," said L 
Another time, after Sabbath service, the clergyman 
asked what intelligent looking lady that was, who 
came in late and was seated on the front seat. The 
matron began with her slang. The gentleman 
turned away and heard but little of it. I expected 
my turn would come next for interfering, but my 
time had not yet come. 

I was asked to watch with a sick inmate. I said 
I was not feeling very well, and if they could pos- 
sibly do without me, I wish they would, and I 



2CO 

would watch the next night. The next evening I 
offered my services and was rejected. I was taken 
quite sick with a heavy cold and had my own phy- 
sician, to which I had a right. He said my lungs 
were in a bad condition, and I was liable to have 
pneumonia, but being a nurse myself, I knew how to 
avoid danger. I was neglected, but I had all I wished 
for the present. I always had a supply on hand and 
was able to care for myself, but knew that I must 
not go into the basement. At this time the matron 
came with the hired man and had the gas fixture 
put in a condition not to be used. But I gave my- 
self no trouble. The next day she took my doctor 
down into the basement to get his consent to have 
me come down to meals. In this she was dis- 
appointed. The next move, a few days after, she 
came into my room with Dr. W., who made occa- 
sional visits to the " Home." She took a bottle of 
essence that was on the stand, and seeing that it 
was not my medicine, she said, " Get that medicine 
for your face, the doctor said it was not necessary." 
I was at this time convalescent, and not taking 
medicine, and the doctor was too much of a gentle- 
man to interfere. 

" Now, Miss Lawrence, let the doctor have your 
pension papers to get your pension." I replied, 
*' My pension papers are in Washington, and I shall 
go there myself before long, and do all that is 
necessary." I soon after began to get ready to go 
to Washington. A call from the matron, " Miss 
Lawrence, how long do you expect to be gone to 



20I 

Washington ? " "I cannot say." " Well, if you 
stay more than four weeks you lose your room." 
'' How is that?" I asked; ''Miss B. was gone six 
weeks, came back for a few days, and is gone for a 
longer time — but I don't mind about the room, 
that is all right." Soon after this, two of the com- 
mittee came to my room, and one of them said, 
*' Oh, dear, Miss Lawrence, I have something to say 
to you, and I am afraid you won't like it; you are 
to give up your room and take one on the third 
floor." ''Oh, and is that all; that is not bad," said 
I. A few weeks before this, I was sent down into 
the basement to wash dishes, with my next-door 
neighbor. She was feeling very bad, and it having 
been made up between the two, the matron was 
present. My neighbor was seated by the table 
wiping cup plates ; she commenced crying, her 
hands hurt so bad. " Well, go up stairs ; you need 
not wipe dishes," said the matron. The inmates 
were afraid to complain for fear they would lose 
their place ; they had nowhere to go. There was a 
mixed multitude to care for, and it required a most 
judicious person to administer to their wants. It 
represents several different nations — some illiterate 
and untaught, and some, although deprived of a 
higher education, had been accustomed to a far better 
life, but through misfortune were obliged to seek 
this " Home of the Friendless." It has the right 
name ; there is little friendship within its doors, 
and were it not for outsiders, they would be friend- 
less indeed. There was but one who cried over 



202 

wiping a cup, for want of strength in her hand, and 
she, in less than twenty-four hours, was using, for 
her own purpose, an eight-pound flat-iron, without 
shedding a tear. It was hypocrisy. I call things 
by their right name. 

There are quite a number of very old people in 
this institution, who, if kindly treated, are all right. 
An infant can be soothed by kind treatment, and 
many of the very aged require the same loving, for- 
bearing treatment. There are very few exceptions. 
The law of kindness, wisely administered, will make 
both parties more happy. 

I now began to make final preparations for my 
trip to Washington. It will not be necessary to go 
upon the third floor. I well knew what awaited me 
there, and I furthermore knew that I should not go 
through the cleansing process the third floor re- 
quired, though I said nothing. My goods and 
paintings were removed quietly to the house of a 
friend, and I was ready, to depart. My means were 
limited, but I had a few articles to dispose of. One 
article of my own workmanship was very nice, and 
I proposed that several ladies buy it for a present 
to the pastor of the church of which I was a mem- 
ber. One lady who belonged to the committee of 
the '' Home," and was a member of the same 
church, forbade the sale of the article, for the 
reason that I had left the " Home." This was 
charity on a Pharisaical scale, that, if weighed in 
the balance, would be found wanting. I at once 
withdrew the article, sold it to a friend, and started 



203 

for Washington. I was sure I had plenty of friends 
there, who knew of my labors and standing during 
the war. I found them, and was made to feel at 
home. Now, don't you see that Lawrence won't 
give up the ship, and that no inferior can put the 
yoke upon her neck — she was not born for that. 
There are some people, I believe, born to fight for 
the right, and as my lot has always been a scene of 
changes and fighting for the right, I think it will 
continue to be so until the last life battle is 
fought — like my distinguished ancestor, who re- 
linquished the ship only with his dying breath. 

Now my work began in Washington. I called 
upon the lady who had my matters in hand, and 
found that nothing had been done of any account. 
She at once accompanied me to the Capitol to find 
the papers that had been deposited there for a 
number of years. 

The records of the first room were searched ia 
vain, the second room also. My friend said, " You 
will have to make out new papers." " Oh, no," I 
said ; " they dare not throw such papers into the 
waste-basket ; my papers are here." My friend 
said, " You go into such a department, and if you 
cannot find them, call for me. I'll rest here a few 
moments until you return." I went, and to my 
great satisfaction, I found the papers. Instead of 
taking my own matters in hand, the year before, I 
left them in the hands of those whose neglect 
looked like want of interest in the matter. Also 
my going to the " Home " was for selfish purposes.. 



204 

I did not expect to enter it, if at all, under a year 
or two. -There were eleven to be removed by 
death, before my name would be called, and but 
one of that number passed away before I was called 
to take her room ; that movement threw me out of 
several hundred dollars. And why were efforts 
made to get the papers out of my hands when I 
was at the " Home ; " and threats made that my 
room " would be taken away if I were gone more 
than four weeks ? " These things speak for them- 
selves. I asked a lady of standing and influence 
why it was that they did not have a lady of intelli- 
gence and at least some refinement at this institu- 
tion? She answered, ''We cannot procure suza a 
person." What is a home for? Is it not to feel at 
rest, to be treated kindly? The law of kindness 
will fight more battles for the right than overbear- 
ing rudeness and cruelty. Some persons do not 
prosper with the power given them, just because 
they do not know how to use it, but are sure to 
abuse it. I have taken my share of suffering abuses 
without resentment until forbearance ceased to be 
a virtue. I do not believe in Northern slavery. It 
is time that it comes to an end ; and if every 
Christian man and woman would come out against 
the wrongs of the present day, and take a decided 
stand against them, we might be looking for the 
Millennium! But, such is life; where one takes 
sides for the right, too many oppose and perse- 
cute it. 

I was in Washington through the long session, 



205 

which did not adjourn until late in the summer^ 
doing all that was necessary to be done. 

General Curtis had written a favorable letter to 
Gen. Tracey, a member of Congress from Albany 
district, who worked the bill through, and I ob- 
tained my pension. Just previous to this, Congress 
had passed a bill allowing all nurses $12 a month 
and no more. I was one of the first nurses and 
passed through all the hardships of the war, but 
failed to present my case among the first, owing, as 
I have said before, to my being hurried into the 
" Home " a year or two sooner than I expected to 
be. But by stratagem and perseverance I effected 
my escape from the so-called " Home," for which I 
thank my heavenly Father. 

It was a long time before I could consent to 
bring my life before the public, though I had often 
been importuned by friends to do so. I always 
claimed to adhere to the third verse of the sixth 
chapter of Matthew : " Let not thy left hand know 
what thy right hand doeth." But the time has 
come for me to work with both hands, for it is a 
God-given right. When in Washington attending 
the " Grand Encampment " of the Grand Army of 
the Republic, which took place in September, 1892, 
I was again urged by friends to write the history of 
my life. A lady editor from New York came to 
me while there, to have me prepare a sketch of my 
work during the war. This I was not able to do 
under the excitement of this occasion. The nurses 
were invited to some entertainment every evening, 



206 

and through the day were off at sight-seeing. The 
gentleman, Mr. Wright, with whom about thirty of 
our lady nurses were stopping, hired a very fine 
conveyance, with six beautiful gray horses, to take 
us to Arlington to visit the graves of our brave 
boys, some of whom I knew and cared for. On 
our return we were invited to lunch at the New 
York Avenue Presbyterian Church. We had a most 
delightful time all through the encampment. Our 
superintendent, Miss Dame, president of the Nurses' 
Corps, at Washington, made us feel at home 
through her untiring efforts and kindness. She had 
two tents prepared for us on the white lot, where 
we met many of our boys that we once cared for ; 
and here we had a most delightful time. After our 
lunch at the Presbyterian church we were enter- 
tained by a pathetic song, and remarks by Mrs. 
Fowles on the death of some of our soldier boys. 
Our stay was one continued scene of pleasure, 
and will long be remembered by us all. 



CHAPTER XV. 

" It kindles all my soul, 
My country's loveliness." 

— Cassimir of Poland. 

Soon after the close of the war I was invited by 
TTiy friend, Mrs. Draper, to visit her at her home in 
Worcester, Mass., and accompany her to Boston, 



207 

where her husband, who was a member of the 
Legislature, was then stopping. Worcester, we all 
know, is a beautiful city, and my hostess was an 
ideal entertainer; therefore, my every moment 
spent here was full of enjoyment. My little Fanny 
was with me, and being an exceedingly pretty child, 
with a very romantic history, attracted no little 
attention. 

On a lovely spring morning we took the train for 
Boston. The air seemed full of the teeming fra- 
grance of the resurrection of nature. Everything 
looked peaceful and holy. What a contrast to the 
four previous springs. Even the birds were happy, 
and from each little throat came forth victorious 
notes which seemed to say, " Make way for 
Liberty ! Make way for Liberty ! ! " Everybody 
and everything rejoiced, and involuntarily I found 
myself repeating the beautiful lines of Thompson : 

"The first of heaven's blessings; 

Sweet Peace, how delightful thou art!" 

Arriving in Boston, we were met by Mr. Draper, 
who took us to the House of Representatives, and 
into the Governor's room, where we were intro- 
duced to Governor Andrews, the justly-titled War 
Governor of Massachusetts. The Governor then 
presented us to each member of his staff. Here we 
met the Hon. Edward Everett, a true and noble 
gentleman everywhere. He told us he was to give 
a lecture that evening on the causes and issues of 
the long and bloody struggle through which we had 
just passed, and which had left so many mourning 



208 

homes in every State of the Union, and cordially 
invited us to hear him. 

During his discourse little Fanny grew weary, and 
fell asleep in my arms. The speaker noticed it, 
and, pointing to the child, said, '' Behold one of the 
innocent little victims of the war; a beautiful, help- 
less orphan, now quietly sleeping in the arms of 
her foster mother," drawing a comparison between 
this child, who had fallen to the care of a motherly 
heart, and the many hundreds of just such children 
made orphans in the same sad way, who had found 
no friend to supply their needs, or gentle hand to 
guide them in the way of right. 

After finishing our visit in Boston, we went to 
Auburndale to spend a short time with some very 
dear old friends, Prof. George W. Briggs and 
family. Prof. Briggs was at that time principal of 
Laselle Seminary. Mrs. Briggs, before marriage, 
was a Miss Lydia Laselle, one of a large family, 
who from my infancy had been our neighbors and 
friends ; consequently, I looked forward to my visit 
at Auburndale with much anticipation. I was not 
disappointed. During my stay here the pro- 
fessor said to me one day, '' You certainly 
must not think of going away without going 
to see Nathaniel." This was the Rev. Nathaniel 
Laselle, then pastor of the Presbyterian church at 
Ames. Here we had another good visit, and Rev. 
Laselle, who was well acquainted with the poet, 
Whittier, thought I ought not to leave Ames with- 
out meeting him. Accordingly, he accompanied 



209 

me to the poet's house, where we were very hospita- 
bly received by Mr. Whittier and his maiden sister. 
After a pleasant and entertaining call, both gentle- 
men accompanied us to the station and we returned 
to Auburndale. 

Shortly after my return there was to be a gather- 
ing of the old anti-slavery element at Faneuil Hall, 
Boston. We were all intending to be there, but 
unfortunately Mrs. Briggs was ill at that time and 
unable to go, but as she would not hear to any 
sacrifice being made on her account, Mr. Briggs, 
Fanny and myself attended the meeting, which was 
addressed by Wendell Phillips, Wm. Lloyd Garri- 
son, John G. Whittier and others. 

I had been invited to address a relief association 
at New Bedford, and Mr. Whittier kindly gave me 
letters of introduction to the mayor, and to the 
Howells and Tillinghasts, the last two families be- 
ing noted and influential '^ Friends." 

From New Bedford we went to Hartford, Conn., 
to visit the editor of the Hartford Courant who 
had been one of my patients in the hospital at 
Fairfax and at Bishop St. John's place. His wife 
cane to the hospital to help care for her sick hus- 
band. We became very good friends in " Old Vir- 
ginia," and they urgently insisted that I should 
visit them at their home in Connecticut. 

While here I attended the Congregational church. 
After service, the pastor, Rev. Mr. Burton, invited 
me and my little girl to dine with him and his 
14 



2IO 

family that afternoon. After dinner he asked us to 
go with him to the Methodist Sabbath-school where 
he wanted Fanny to sing. She sang Sabbath- 
school songs and sang well. 

On our return home something in the man's voice 
and look attracted my attention. A new idea 
dawned in my mind, and stopping on the walk I 
turned upon him suddenly and asked, " Mr. Burton, 
what is your Christian name, please ? " '* Nathan- 
iel," said he, " Nathaniel Burton." " And what was 
your father's name ?" " Henry Burton. He is a 
Methodist minister." " And preached in Middle- 
burgh years ago ?" said I. ''He did." ''And do 
you remember a girl by the name of Catharine 
Lawrence?" " Well, is it possible ? I guess I do 
remember Catharine Lawrence, and I recognize her 
now. My father and mother must know of this." 

This recognition occurring on the street, with 
both of us standing as if spell-bound, must have 
looked odd enough to passers-by, but I thought 
nothing of that then, only that I had met an old 
acquaintance. On reaching home, Mr. Burton im- 
mediately wrote and dispatched a letter to his 
father, who was living in Middletown, Conn., and 
on the following day the father came over and 
nothing would do but Fanny and I must go home 
with him, where we had another good old-fashioned 
visit. 

On returning to Hartford, Mrs. Isabella Beecher 
Hooker sent her carriage with an invitation for us 
to spend the day with her, but as we were already 



211 

engaged for the day we could not accept it. The 
following day she came herself, and carried us off 
to her beautiful home. In the afternoon she took 
us in her carriage again and drove to her sister's, 
Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stow's, where we made a 
long and pleasant call. In the evening we were 
driven back to Hartford, well pleased with our 
day's entertainment. 

Our next visit was in Bridgeport, where at an 
entertainment at the church parsonage we met by 
chance two relatives of little Fanny's, her father's 
cousins. They called upon us next day and learned 
all that I could tell them of the sad fate of Fanny's 
parents and how I became possessed of the three 
little daughters. 

On leaving Bridgeport we turned our faces home- 
ward toward the old Schoharie hills, feeling that 
the change and recreation had been in many ways 
a blessing to us both. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

" The rough burr often contains a sweet kernel." 

Reminiscence of a Friend. 

A few years after the war I went to Washington, 
intending to spend some time, and took up my 
abode at the Woman's Christian Home. 

The first morning after my arrival, on entering 
the breakfast room, I was introduced to a large 



212 

number of ladies, among the number several 
Southerners. After the compliments of the morn- 
ing, I found myself seated between two of the 
Southern ladies. One leaned a little forward and 
asked the other if she wanted to see another 
Yankee. *' No," she replied, with an oath, '' I never 
want to see another Yankee." I was between two 
fire-eaters. I must retain my powder until I could 
take good aim. I met them each morning after 
that with some pleasant salutation, as " Good 
morning, ladies ; I hope I see you well," ignoring 
their past sharp-shooting. After a time I missed 
Mrs. Fisher — the lady who never wanted to see 
another Yankee — from the table, had not seen her 
for a day or two ; finally I asked where she was, 
and was informed that she was sick. Her room 
being directly opp'osite mine, I thought I would 
call and see how ill she really was. I rapped at her 
door. She bade me " Come in." " Good morning, 
Mrs. Fisher ; I heard you were sick. Can I do any- 
thing for you ? " " Oh, yes. Miss Lawrence. Bring 
up a chair and sit down by me," and handing me 
her Bible, srid, '^ Will you read a chapter for me?" 
" Certainly ; I am only too happy to do so." " I 
am so glad you came in. I am sick and lonely." 
After reading the chapter, I asked, " Had her 
friend, Mrs. H., been in to see her?" ''Oh, no; I 
don't think she cares for sick people. Only Mrs. 
Bent and the doctor have been to see me. Mrs. 
Bent brings my meals. And now that you have 
come, won't you stay all the time you can ? " No 



213 

use for powder here. Lawrence holds the fort. 
*' Now, Miss Lawrence, I have something to com- 
municate to you ; I think you may be ?.ble to help 
me. It is this : my father, in his will, gave me the 
old homestead. I married a doctor and left the 
place in the care of a man whom I trusted for 
honesty. As long as my husband was living all 
went right. When the war broke out my husband 
was appointed a surgeon-general in the Confederate 
army, and near the close of the war he died. I was 
left without means, and resorted to my parental 
home for help. The man refused to recognize any 
claim of mine whatever. He said the property be- 
longed to him, and he could do nothing for me. 
My next step was to take counsel of a lawyer. I 
had no money to pay a lawyer, but hoped he would 
take the case and take his pay out of the estate. 
I went to Warrington, Va., and laid my case before 
a lawyer. He referred me to another, the second 
to a third, and so on. I had made the round, not 
finding one willing to espouse my cause. I asked 
the last one to whom I applied how many lawyers 
there were in Warrington. ' Forty,' he replied. 
'The lawyers in this city, forty in number,' I said, 
'must be the relics of the ' Forty Thieves' in the 
Arabian Knights.'" ''Well, Mrs. Fisher, had you 
presented the case plainly, with a prospect of gain- 
ing the suit, they doubtless would have taken the 
matter in hand." 

Then she asked me, " Do you know any Northern 
lawyer who you think would take the case for me ? " 



214 

'' I know of but one who would be likely to do it, 
and that is Gen. Butler. He is a real Yankee and 
will not put on false colors. The Southern people 
know him quite well." '* Yes, we do know him 
^mte well ; but I have just a mind to go and 
see what he can do for me. He will know I 
am a Southerner of course, as my property is in 
Virginia. I am a little fearful. Tell me how I may 
approach him." ''You go to his office. As soon 
as you enter you will be directed to a seat. 
There may be quite a number of applicants before 
you. When your turn comes, a gentleman will ask 
you what he can do for you ? Tell him you wish 
to see Gen. Butler on special business. If the Geh^ 
eral is in, you will be directed to his private office. 
Then tell him all, correctly, and you will soon learn 
what your prospects are. Now, Mrs. F. be careful 
how you approach him. Call him by his title name. 
You rriust be a lady, and don't let that Southern 
fire blaze up. Keep cool, even if he should say some- 
thing which does not come up to your expectations. 
If there is hope in your case, you may be sure you 
will gain the suit. I know of several apparently 
hopeless cases which have been won by Gen. 
Butler." 

Mrs. Fisher was an invalid and subject to 
crutches, but very energetic, and in a short time 
she was on a street car, en route for Gen. Butler's 
office. On her return I perceived the mark of dis- 
appointment on her countenance. She said, " I 
did not see Gen. Butler, he was not in." "Who 



215 

did you see, and what is the result of your visit?" 
'' When all others had passed out of the office, a 
gentleman came to me, and asked if he could do 
anything for me. I asked if Gen. Butler was in his 
private office. He answered, ' Not at present, but 
you can state your case to me ; that will be all right. 
It all passes over to him.' He of course learned 
that I belonged to the South, and asked, ' Could I 
not find a lawyer nearer home, who would under- 
stand the case thoroughly? ' I said I was informed 
that Gen. Butler never lost a case. He was such an 
old fighter he would stick to his client like a blood- 
hound until he gained his suit, and in this case he 
would have blood-hounds to fight with. He 
laughed all the time he was talking to me. I really 
felt vexed at the man." " When are you to see 
Gen. Butler, or to know the result of your visit?" 
'' I left my number, and after the case is investi- 
gated he will write me. He asked who recom- 
mended me to Gen. Butler? I said, a Miss Law- 
rence, from New York. She knew of several suits 
he had gained for working women in Lowell, 
Mass." ''And you missed seeing Gen. Butler? 
Mrs. Fisher, what kind of a looking gentleman were 
you transacting business with?" '' Why, he was 
quite advanced in years, and bald-headed, some- 
what portly, and would laugh at almost every word 
I said. Once I said, old Ben Butler, and he laughed 
until he shook. I do not think he is a special 
friend of Gen. Butler's. I'm sorry I missed seeing 
the General." " No, you need not be sorry. The 



2l6 

gentleman you saw was none other than Gen. But- 
ler himself." '' Oh, no, the gentleman said he was 
not in his private office." " Of course not, he was 
in the public office when you went in, and you, be- 
ing the last one, you were just as private as if in 
the other office." " Now, Miss Lawrence, if I get 
back my old home, I want you to come and live 
with me." " Well, Mrs. Fisher, do you think the 
Southern fire-eater and the Northern Yankee could 
live harmoniously together, and enjoy life?" ''Oh, 
yes. Miss L. couldn't you ? " " Yes, most certainly 
I could." The hatchet was buried. 

There appeared to be now perfect harmony at 
the Home, and I proposed that after Miss Wicks 
had asked the blessing at the breakfast table, each 
lady should repeat a verse from the Bible. The 
proposition was pleasantly received and carried out. 
Miss Catharine Bent had been directress of this 
home since the war. She was a lady of intelli- 
gence, and well fitted to take charge of an institu- 
tion of this kind. This was not a Christian home 
jn name only, but a place where the Christian 
virtues were cultivated and practiced. It has been 
a /i07;ie for many a homeless one of both North and 
South. 

My business in Washington having been accom- 
plished, I left for my own home in New York, with 
the heartiest of good-byes and the kindliest feeling 
of my companions, even the Yankee-hating 
Southerners. 

I never met my friend, Mrs. Fisher, again, but 



217 

afterward learned that she never regained her 
paternal home. Her declining life, which was 
short, was pleasantly cared for at the St. Elizabeth 
Institution at Anacosta, Washington, D. C, where 
she quietly passed away. 



CHAPTER XVn. 

*' Rule kindly, tenderly, 

Over Thy kingdom fair." — Mulock, 

One of the most discouraging and dangerous 
practices in a school or family is partiality among' 
the children. With the teacher it is not so much 
to be wondered at, as a beautiful and pleasant child 
will make its way with the world, but it does seem 
almost impossible that such a feeling as preference 
can exist in a fond mother's heart ; or, if any, it 
Avould seem that the most tender feeling would go 
forth to the child least favored by nature, that the 
tender pity for an unfortunate one would draw it 
nearer to the mother heart than are the ones who 
need no pity. But such is not always the case. 

Among the friends of my early youth was a 
lovely girl who married well, and whose home I 
frequently visited. Although everything was done to 
make it pleasant for me, I often felt greatly pained 
to see the devotion of the mother to one beautiful 
child and her apparent coldness toward one more 
plain. On my first visit there were three children 



2l8 

in the family, Nina, a most beautiful, bright-eyed 
little fairy of five years; Lucy, a very plain little 
girl of three, and a baby boy. 

I soon perceived that Nina was her mother's 
idol. Her imperial beauty had quite beguiled the 
mother's heart. Whatever she said or did was just 
the thing. Her mother never wearied of fondling 
or caressing her, and she was constantly addressed 
as '' My darling," " My beautiful," '' My beloved," 
etc., while Lucy was never anything but plain Lucy, 
unless she was called a tiresome child, or something 
of that sort. If she chanced to lean up against 
her mother, it was " Lucy, do go away ; you tire me 
to death," or " Do go along, Lucy; you are forever 
in my way." 

Although she was but a mere baby, I could see 
that poor little Lucy longed for her mother's love. 
Her great, hungry pleading eyes touched my heart. 
How one loving kiss or affectionate caress would 
have cheered the drooping child. One day when 
her mother had pushed her away with the oft-re- 
peated phrase, " Lucy, pray do get out of my way," 
I ventured to say, " Mother, little Lucy is hunger- 
ing and thirsting after a mother's love." The 
mother replied, *' Of course, I love her well enough, 
but she is always in my way, and such a tiresome 
child." 

Two years later I visited my friends again. The 
same spirit permeated the household. Edward, or 
Eddie as he was called, had grown to be a fine 
child, the son of the family, while beautiful Nina — 



219 

and she was peerlessly beautiful — was an imperious 
miss of seven, who received the homage of a queen,, 
and as a queen made a subject of her sister Lucy 
in every sense of the word. Lucy was a patient, 
silent child, keeping mostly by herself, her great, 
mournful eyes looking like wells full of unshed 
tears. My visit was not pleasant. My heart ached 
for this little stranger in her parents' home. Still 
two years later an epidemic of scarlet fever swept over 
that neighborhood, and among the stricken ones, 
were the two little daughters of my friend. Both 
were very ill, but when the crisis came, Nina turned 
for the better, but Lucy did not improve. No one 
spoke to the child about her condition, but she 
seemed to understand it all, and towards the last 
called her mother to her bedside and said, '^ Mamma,, 
everything in heaven is beautiful, isn't it ? " " Yes,** 
her mother answered, ''very beautiful." ''I knew 
it," said Lucy, " and if Nina had died she would 
surely have gone there, but I am so glad she is 
going to get well, for, dear mamma, I feared it 
would kill you if Nina died, and I prayed God to 
spare her to you, and, mamma, does the Lord ever 
fmd any place for homely little girls like me, do 
you think? I know I have always been so much in 
your way, do you think I would be so much in the 
way of the angels that they would not let me stay 
there? " "_ My dear child," said, her mother, " the 
Lord looks only at the heart ; if that is good and 
beautiful that is all He asks." " Is that truly so, 
mamma?" '' It is truly so, my darling," said her 



220 

mother, who for the first time in her life saw that 
her child, in heart, was truly beautiful, and with a 
great throb of love, stooped and kissed her. " Then," 
said the dying child, '^ I am so glad to go, and, dear 
mamma, when you and the rest come, maybe some- 
where among the angels you may find me." 

*'IS THERE ROOM IN ANGEL LAND?" 

Is there room among the angels 

For the spirit of your child ? 
Will they take your little Mamie 

In their loving arms so mild? 
Will they ever love me fondly 

As my story-books have said? 
Will they find a home for Mamie, 
_^ When she's numbered with the dead? 

Chorus. 
Tell, O, tell me truly, mother, 
E're I join the shining band, 
■ Do you think they'll bid me welcome, 
Is there room in Angel land ? 

I have sorely tried you, mother. 

Been to you a constant care, 
And you will not miss me, mother 

When I dwell among the fair. 
For you had no room for Mamie, 

She was ever in your way; 
And she fears the good will shun her, 

Will they, darling mother — say? 

Chorus. 

I was not so wayward, mother, 

Not so very, very bad. 
But that tender love would cherish 

And make Mamie's heart so glad, 



221 

Oh, I yearned for pure affection 
In this world of bitter woe, 

And I long for bliss immortal, 
In that land where I must go. 

Chorus. 
Tell, O, tell me truly, mother, 

E're I'm taken from your hand, 
Do you think they'll bid me welcome, 

Is there room in Angel land? 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

' Woman, dear woman, sublime as thou art. 
In the shadow of thy Lord must thou sit." 

Woman Suffrage. 

How much women have already done for their 
sex. I well remember when the wife was often left 
destitute of support after her husband's death al- 
though the bulk of the property came through her 
by heirship before marriage, and after by hard work 
and raising a family. The husband had a lawful 
right to will the property all to his children or 
others as he might choose, leaving the wife destitute 
of any means, except the hold of affection she 
might have on the children or other friends. 

I distinctly remember the case of one very re- 
spectable and good woman, who bore to her hus- 
band sixteen children — some of them died in their 
infancy, and some years after the death of her 
husband. In her feeble old age, the daughters-in-law 



222 

tired of caring for her and she was finally taken to 
the county poor-house and died there. 

Women have worked until they hav^e a law upon 
the statute books of the State of New York that 
married women can hold their own property and 
their children, if the husband is a worthless man, 
not able to support them. Quite a privilege. 

How the lives of such women as Susan B. An- 
thony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Amelia Bloomer, 
^nd many others have been dedicated to the work 
of bettering humanity, and especially the lives of 
their sister women, and how unflinchingly and un- 
tiringly Miss Anthony, Mrs. Mary Seymour How- 
ell, and many more did work during the early part 
of the year '94, endeavoring to give to the women 
of this State the right of suffrage, not because it 
Avould make women more masculine, but because 
they well knew that if women could speak through 
the ballot, some of the evils of our land might be 
wiped out. Some of the traps which ensnare our 
-sons and daughters into sin and ruin might be 
sprung or broken. And how have they succeeded ? 
The Constitutional Convention convened at our 
capital city, Albany. This convention is expected 
to do much toward reforming the laws of the State, 
and to frame such measures that vital questions 
may be submitted to the people on election day. 

Among other measures to be looked after is the 
Woman Suffrage question. I attended the sessions. 
Long strings of petitions signed by both men and 
women were presented to the convention to show 



223 

that not only women, but some of our best and 
most eminent men thought the measure just. 
Many eloquent speakers, both men and women, 
labored in favor of the measure, showing much 
good which might arise from the use of the 
franchise in female hands. After one exceedingly 
convincing discourse by a God-inspired woman, one 
prominent member of the convention remarked, 
as we were passing from the assembly hall, 
" How gladly would I give a thousand dollars 
if I could have the power and ability to de- 
liver such a discourse as that." '' Another meet- 
ing at the Assembly chamber," said a friend 
to me. ''And what is that?" I asked. ''Oh, 
it is an anti-suffrage meeting. You don't want to 
go." " Why not ? " " You may not like their senti- 
ments." " Well, I shall go for all that. It's best 
to hear both sides of the question ; then you can 
judge which you like best, but I am firmly set in the 
right of woman suffrage. There will be some of 
our talented ladies of Albany take part. I am sure 
I shall hear something nice. I shall certainly go, as 
I do not wish to miss one of these meetings as I am 
always benefited." 

The appointed time came. The Assembly cham- 
ber was well filled. The first speaker was intro- 
duced. His discourse was lengthy, but not at all 
severe. The next was an Albany gentleman. He 
gave a good talk on the subject, but it was rather 
aged. It must have just awakened out of a thirty 
years' sleep. Call it " Rip Van Winkle." Now, 



224 

thought I, the next will be a lady. But in this I 
was disappointed. Up sprang a little object, which 
looked like — something I dare not mention. He 
spoke fiercely. He said women had too many 
rights already. His speech was a burlesque on 
womanhood ; yet a committee of women calling 
themselves anti-suffragists applauded him. 

Who are these anti-suffragists, and what have 
they done ? Let us look after them a moment. 
They style themselves, *' Albany's Exalted Four 
Hundred." Whence their origin ? They certainly 
are not the sons and daughters of the aristocracy 
of former days, but the latest mushroom growth of 
these \diSi fast days. They are the descendants of 
the '' veneerings." Has not the revealed truth 
come to us, in glaring colors, that a score of their 
number are to-day paying the penalty of their 
money-grabbing instincts within our prison walls ? 
And where did they procure that long list of names 
on their petition ? Go search the slums and pur- 
lieus of our city and you will find many of the 
names which appear on this petition. These poor 
degraded wretches, whom good women would 
gladly save, have, through their own ignorance, 
sealed their own doom. 

Who were the special committee appointed to 
consider the suffrage bill? and how did they con- 
sider it ? They exhausted much eloquence and 
time, and finally concluded it would not be 
safe to let the women come in. Like Demetrius of I 
old they cry out, " If we let the women vote manyl 



225 

of our crafts will be in danger." The shrines of the 
Goddess of the Ephesians must not be meddled with 
by meddlesome women. Where is the man — I 
would like to ask — who would willingly license 
women with the power to pull down those institu- 
tions which he loves and patronizes? Not the 
members of this committee sure. No, they say, we 
must not let this question go before even the men 
on election day. We must squelch it. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

"Soldiers, rest in heavenly bowers 

"While we strew thy graves with flowers." 

Memorial Day, 1895. 

Here am I in the beautiful youngcity of Oneonta, 
on the eve of the 30th commemoration of the close 
of the war of the rebellion. How different from 
the years of war when the recruiting ofdcer was the 
most prominent object to be seen on the street, 
when the booming of every cannon in the South 
rang a death knell in some human heart. When 
carnage and tears and groans filled all our country. 

Now all is peace and prosperity, and all the 
present generation knows of those troubled times 
is what they read from books, and papers, or the 
mythical tales told by some of the *' old soldiers." 

Sabbath morning I attended service in the new 
Universalist church, where the G. A. R. and all 
15 



226 

kindred societies came by special arrangement to 
listen to one of the most beautifully and poetically 
patriotic sermons that it has ever been my good 
fortune to hear. The Rev. Edward Foster Temple 
is one of God's truly gifted ministers, and to listen 
to such a sermon as he preached last Sunday morn- 
ing means to bear away with you an impersonation 
of the speaker and the sentiment of his discourse 
to wear forever in your memory. 

In the afternoon the Y. M. C. A. and the Chris- 
tian Endeavor societies congregated at the First 
Baptist Church where Christianity and patriotism 
mingled throughout an interesting service. In 
the evening a union service was held in the First 
Presbyterian Church, where the Rev. Mr. Hall de- 
livered an eloquent sermon. 

All the week has, in a measure, been dedicated to 
preparations for Memorial Day, and at last, on this 
eve of this one day of the year, can be seen dozens 
of lads and lassies wending their way homeward 
from the fragrant woods, laden with baskets and 
bundles of vernal beauties teeming with the un- 
trammeled purity of the sylvan bowers from which 
they were culled. 

This is right. Lay the pure flowers of nature on 
the breast of the man who went forth in the purity 
of his young manhood, to brave a war and lay 
down his life to preserve for us a free country and a 
united nation. 

And now the Memorial morning breaks in 
splendor. The happy birds sing of freedom. The 



22/ 

very atmosphere is permeated with the spirit of 
peace and harmony. Presently the bands begin to 
play, and I get a comfortable seat, where I can see 
all to advantage. The procession heaves in sight. 
The gaily caparisoned marshal proudly leads. The 
bands play beautifully and sweetly. The Third 
Separate Company makes a fine display. The fire 
laddies, in bright uniforms, almost dazzle the eyes. 
Daughters of Veterans, Relief Corps and other orders 
make up a fine cavalcade, and behind all this comes 
a little handful of G. A. R., who fetch up the 
rear, marching to the cemetery to decorate the 
graves of their comrades who have answered to the 
final roll-call, who have finished their warfare on 
earth and laid down their arms in peace. 

As I muse on the pageant before me I am carried 
back to the old days, and wonder if this little rem- 
nant is all that is left of the hundreds of stalwart 
men who went forth to battle from this stirring 
town. Are we to decorate the graves of all but 
these ? Oh, no ! There were many whose graves 
cannot be decorated, for they sleep in the malarial 
swamps of the South, or lie buried in forgotten 
places on the sunny hillsides, and many white bones 
have bleached on Southern soil without the rite of 
burial. These are not strewn with flowers to-day, 
but they are no less hallowed in the hearts who 
loved them. 

But why is this small reminder of that terrible 
struggle placed at the very latter end of the pro- 
cession ? Is it that their faded blue shall be seen 



228 

in greater contrast with the gay uniforms which 
have preceded them, or is it — can it be true — that 
the '' old soldier," to whom we owe all that is free 
and beautiful in our country and government, is 
being slowly, but surely, relegated to the rear ; that 
the aspiring generations of to-day, who are enjoy- 
ing their rich inheritance, are forgetting the brave 
old soldiers who gave it to them ? 

It seems so little time since I helped to care for 
our sick and wounded boys that I marvel to see 
them look so old and feeble, so gray and worn, 
until I start to rise to my feet, and find that I, too, 
am like the rest, old soldiers, old nurses, all passing 
on to that realm whence only the bugle-call of the 
archangel " can awake them to glory again." 



CHAPTER XX. 

" Sweet Auburn ! loveliest village of the plain, 
Where health and plenty cheered the laboring swain." 

— Goldsmith. 

In September, 1894, I found myself in the town 
of Oneonta, almost a stranger in a strange land. I 
had but one acquaintance that I was then aware of 
in the town ; but as ever the good Lord had me in 
His keeping and opened up the pleasant places. I 
came — as some people would say — not under the 
most favorable circumstances, for I came as a book 
agent, a being whom some persons appear to dread 
or be afraid of. I had a book, a ^' Life Sketch'' of 
myself, which I wished to dispose of. 



229 

Of course I first called on my friend, where I was 
made very welcome and where my attention was 
drawn to a beautiful pair of twin boys less than 
two years old, the only children, and the decided 
pets of the household. I have laughed till my sides 
ached to see these babies run, jump, dance, play 
leap-frog and — fight. Probably many a mother 
will think, Oh, these twins don't compare with 
mine, for I am told that this young city in the 
Susquehanna valley is famous for twins, boasting 
of a dozen pairs or more, but as I gazed on this 
special pair, John and George, I thought here lies 
a portion of future America, Who knows what re- 
sponsible positions are in store for these exception- 
ally bright babies, and what pit-falls lie in their 
pathways. I almost shrank in thought at the 
weight of responsibility resting upon my young 
friends, the parents of these boys. What an infinite 
amount of patience and wisdom will be necessary 
to bring up these boys to fill their places in life, 
with honesty, sobriety and the love and fear 
of God. In the babies of to-day lies the future of 
our nation. Heaven grant that the children of this 
generation be so brought up and instructed that 
the future of our nation shall be one of progression 
in all that is good. I soon discovered that I had 
several old acquaintances in town and secured a 
boarding place with one on Academy street. Here 
all was done that could make my stay pleasant and 
homelike, but the town being large and extending 
over large territory, in order to shorten my daily 



230 

walks I have changed my place several times and 
have lived with people whom I had never known 
before, but have received only kindness, and right 
here let me say that if I am ever asked what 
Oneonta is noted for, I shall answer, *' For its 
hospitality to strangers." For since I came here so 
many hands have been stretched to me in friend- 
ship and sympathy that it seems as though every- 
body stood ready to give me a lift in the right di- 
rection, and I shall bear away with me the fondest 
recollections of the place and its people. Especially 
do I feel deepest gratitude to a lady friend with 
whom I boarded, for extreme kindness and atten- 
tion in sickness and for sympathy and consideration 
at all times. She is a woman who is an active sym- 
pathizer with all reforms and a hard worker in the 
cause of temperance ; but was never too busy or 
too weary to be solicitous for my comfort. May 
God bless her and prosper the cause for which she 
works. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

After my return home, I thought a good while 
about the matter of writing my life work, and 
finally set about it, and have done what I could, as 
my health and strength would permit. I have 
given the sunny side of my life to the public with 
as much care as possible, hoping that those who 
read, may read with charity, whatever may not 
agree with their views of right, as I have given 



K^ 



Mffe^^^^s?; 



c. s. 



1893. 



231 

nothing but real life. Every life is made up of sun- 
shine and cloud, and we can enjoy as much of 
either as we will. I think I have more sunshine 
because I will not permit the cloud to predominate. 
I seek the light which every one may have if they 
will receive it. There is no need to go through the 
world with long faces to frighten children and make 
every thing look dark around them. 

As I was at one time teaching a class of young 
ladies, I was taken with pleurisy. My lady assist- 
tant became very much alarmed ; she stood before 
my bed with mouth wide open and a pair of large 
black eyes extended, saying, " Oh, Miss L., don't 
die ! " The sight was so ludicrous that I gave a 
shout of laughter that drove my pain away as 
quickly as it came. My cousin was standing by my 
bed asking what doctor I wished. I said, " Jane 
Shaw ! my pain has left me." She says, " Kitt, you 
have cheated me." ^' No, indeed ; I did not, I was 
in perfect agony at every breath, but the comical 
look of Miss Shaw caused me to shout and the pain 
ceased." Even in pain we can make it pleasant by 
a little sunshine. Some may be ready to say that 
some of my rem.arks are personal ; well, if they hit 
the right ones, that is all right — we should take 
things that belong to us, as we have a perfect right 
to them. If there was less deception in the world 
there would be less sin to answer for. I regret to- 
day for having done so little good in the world. I 
can look back over my three score years and ten 
and see so many niches that I might have filled. 



232 

Oh, so much more good I might have done in 
working for the Master ! 

I have presented nothing but the truth. My 
childhood is written mostly from memory — some 
things being handed down to me by those who 
were actors on the scene in my babyhood, and as I 
have always had a love and a great charge of chil- 
dren, I thought this part would please and amuse 
them. I have never lost my interest in them, and I 
love them next to my Saviour. A friend asked me 
if I were permitted to choose employment in heaven, 
what would it be? My answer was: A group of 
children to look after among flowers. They were 
the Saviour's pets, and those who do not love them 
here will, no doubt, be greatly annoyed if they 
should get to heaven, for they will find hosts of 
children there. There are many wrongs to be cor- 
rected according to our views, and many life battles 
to be fought, and many hills to climb. Oh, if we 
have the moral courage to right the wrongs, and 
fight the battles, and climb the hills, we might be a 
blessing to the world while in this life and heir to 
an inheritance in the life eternal. 

In giving this sketch of my life, I hope my friends 
will excuse me for not going into all the details of 
it. The greater part of my life has been devoted 
to teaching children, as has been already stated. 
The seed scattered in early life is more sure to take 
effect and grow into usefulness in coming years. 
Children should be trusted with tender loving care 
by teachers as well as parents. 



233 

That poem that speaks so beautifully to all ages, 
I must quote : 

Speak gently to the little child, 

Its love be sure to gain; 
Teach it in accents soft and mild, 

It may not long remain. 

And next to childhood comes youth, that period 
of greatest anxiety to parents, an age of restless 
ambition to themselves. 

Speak gently to the young, for they 

Will have enough to bear; 
Pass through this life as best they may, 

'Tis full of anxious care. 

Speak gently to the erring, know 

Such may have toiled in vain. 
Perhaps unkindness made them so; 
, Oh, win them back again. 

Speak gently; it is a little thing 

Dropped in the heart's deep well, 
The good, the joy that it may bring, 

Eternity may tell. 

Speak gently, it is better far, 

To rule by love than fear. 
Speak gently; let not harsh words mar 

The good we would do here. 

Next to mothers are teachers, who help to fill 
the niches, and bear, at least, a small part of the 
burdens of some over-burdened mothers, and thus 
fulfill the Scriptural command — ''Bear ye one an- 
other's burdens." 

I have no sympathy with those mothers who de- 
vote their time to teaching poodles and carrying 



234 

them in their arms as their favorite pets, and leave 
their babies to the care of unskillful nurses and 
servants. 

This is, indeed, an era of changes, and many sad 
ones come to all. I find, in working for the Master, 
that there are many ways of approaching the erring. 
The most effectual is by love and kindness ; these 
will often win the most obdurate. I wish to relate 
an incident that occurred in my earlier years : I was 
once called upon to go on a mission that put my 
inherited heroism to a severe test. A family be- 
came very much reduced in circumstances, through 
sickness and misfortune. The father was a clergy- 
man. He, with his wife and four children, were to 
be provided for. Now, I thought, I will call on 

Judge . He is a wealthy and influential 

gentleman, but always averse to beggars, as he 
called them, and would sometimes treat them 
harshly. I called — the lady was sick and the judge 
was out. I had a pleasant visit with the lady, who 
gave me three dollars. She said, " You may keep 
this from the knowledge of the judge, and get what 
you can from him." In a short time he came in. 
*' Good morning. Miss L., this is the first call you 
have ever made us." " Yes, sir. Judge, I have 
come to the Court of Appeals." "What is it?" he 
asked. '' I have come to beg." " Well, you under- 
stand your business. Do you know how I treat 
that class ? " " Yes, sir ; but if you put me out the 
front door, I'll come in through the back door." 
*' Well, well, you are a chip of the old block. What 



235 

can I do for you ? " " Well, I want any thing that 
a needy family can use — provision, money, wood^ 
food for his house, etc." By night there were large 
quantities of everything needful gathered into the 
minister's house, woodshed and barn. Twenty-five 
dollars would fail to cover the cost. This was, 
indeed, a good day's work. But I prayed earnestly 
before I made my morning visit. 

I now close this little volume, praying that the 
Lord may bless this, my last work, and that my 
friends may meet me where the weary rest from 
labor, and that we may all together enjoy " that 
rest that remaineth for the people of God." 

Speak gently to the aged ones; 

Grieve not their care-worn heart, 
The sands of life have nearly run; 

Let such in peace depart. 



INDEX. 



CHAPTER I. PAGiu 

Introductory 5 

CHAPTER IL 
I>oss of Faith in Childhood ... 6 

CHAPTER III. 
Childhood E 

CHAPTER IV. 
Conversion 14 

CHAPTER V. 
School Teaching Iq 

CHAPTER VI. 
Temperance Work and its attendant difficulties 41 

CHAPTER VII. 
Helping Others 7y 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Enlistment as nurse in the War of the Rebellion 7g 

CHAPTER IX. 
Ingratitude 145^ 

CHAPTER X. 
Colored People's Religious Meeting 146, 

CHAPTER XI. 
Dr. Samuel Fitch 15^ 

CHAPTER XII. 
A Faithful Slave l6o 



&: 



238 

CHAPTER XIII. PAGE. 

Some Startling Incidents since the War , 163 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Facing a Methodist Conference at Adams, N. Y 180 

CHAPTER XV. 
Visiting New England 206 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Reminiscence of a Friend 211 

CHAPTER XVII. 
Kindness to Children 217 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
Woman Suffrage 221 

CHAPTER XIX. 
Memorial Day, 1895 225 

CHAPTER XX. 
ICxperiences as a Book Agent 228 

CHAPTER XXI. 
Conclusion lo 



I sep -1 rj:4 



